Love twice

In a synagogue, in a publisher's magazine, online, in a book - this week I came across a topic that has preoccupied me for years in very different ways.

Benefit concert at the synagogue in Rykestrasse in aid of the Yad Vashem memorial. I talk to a friend about the magnificent synagogue and others, such as the synagogue in Oranienburger Strasse, which were probably just as splendid in the past.

Oranienburger Straße. I told her about the man who opened the Berlin Literature Days a few years ago. He grew up in Berlin - before the First (!) World War. The tragedy of what happened was revealed to the small child in a simple image. What terrible things must have happened if you had to leave in such a hurry that the bowl of delicious blueberries on the table could no longer be eaten!

During the Second World War, he fled to Holland as a Jew with the help of his wife, survived the Holocaust, unlike his parents, and remains in his adopted country to this day. What impressed me at the time was the love with which he spoke of his two wives. The first, who died when he was about 60. And his current wife, whom he later married - not hoping that they would spend several more decades together. Deep love for both of them... different, unique, but each loved in their own way.

I told this to my friend...because the memories of that morning when I heard him speak are still vivid. She told me about a man who had influenced her and who spoke of his two wives one evening in an intimate setting. He spoke with deep love about his first wife, whom he cared for until her death. He spoke of his love for his first wife, of what she had given and meant to him - while his second wife sat next to him. It was clear to everyone that he loved them both.

It is possible to love twice if you are reconciled to the loss of one person.

Reconciled with losses...I encountered this on another level. In an article about the publishers (Diogenes) and friends Rudolf C. Bettschart and Daniel Keel, which I found in the current Diogenes magazine (available free of charge at Starbucks). Almost bankrupt twice. And yet they started again. Also with each other.

And then a friend recommended a Article, who describes vulnerability as a trait of great entrepreneurs. He distinguishes between active vulnerability - the willingness to take risks and to accept that not everything will work out. And consciously affirming this. For him, the hallmark of great entrepreneurs is not not making mistakes. But rather not to break down and give up after failure, which inevitably happens again and again. Many then give up. They don't want to be disappointed like that again. For him, this is passive vulnerability (weepy, self-pitying, despondent). Good entrepreneurs are reconciled with their failed attempts. And start again.

Similar thoughts can also be found in a book by Paul Getty, in his day the richest man in the world, which a friend gave me as a present.

I've spent a lot of time dealing with the question of how to find your way back into life after failure, after loss, after painful experiences. I even wrote a whole book about it - with what I had to say about it a few years ago: Jump. Into full life.

But it still moves me. Unfortunately, failure and loss are inevitable. I don't want to become hard and cold. But continue to love: People, projects, ideas. Love once. Love twice. One key to this is probably to be reconciled with the losses. And then to love again - a dozen times if necessary.