Slupetzky sat at his old typewriter and looked through the skylight into the brilliantly blue evening sky. He was back in Europe once again, the center of his little planet, his home. He had just returned from Ecuador, the land of his longing, the western pole of this world. Now he wanted to write about this return.
For a long time in his life he had struggled with his fate, with the horoscope of his birth. There were challenges to be mastered that were quite difficult. Overall, it was about longing and its fulfillment, the path and the goal. All the great religions had dealt with this seemingly unsolvable problem.
In his own incarnation, this manifested through various constellations. In particular, he had been born in the northwest of his city at the time of sunset. The sun, the star of them all, his zodiac sign, was already low on the horizon and had lost its full power in many respects. Soon it would set completely and night would fall.
This mood of decline accompanied him throughout his entire life, and for most of that time he was saddened by it. But once when he told a friend about it, the friend replied: “Slupetzky, what do you want? This evening mood of sunset is the Blue Hour! It is the most beautiful time of the day.”
Now he had been at the western pole again and had met his friends and former colleagues there. He had seen the blood-red sunsets over the green Pacific. On the way back, he was flying right over the blue Atlantic when the sun set here too. He looked through the small window toward the northwest, the direction of his home. When he saw the blue sky in that moment, the same sky he was flying through, he knew in that instant: He had fulfilled his longing.
Like the little bear and the little tiger in Janosch’s children’s story, he had arrived in Panama, in himself. He had to thank his God, the Loving One, with everything he was. That was it, in all its wonderful beauty. Now life could continue, whatever might come.
—
Vienna Calling 