Never ending story

In Mongolia I think of Mu.
Mu, the Japanese word for nothing.
I sit next to my Ger and can see as far, endless.
Where I no longer see the steppe, the horizon steps in.
Far away, the infinity becomes light.
A beautifull sky covers the steppe,
a blanket of clouds in the whole range of the gray palette.
Where the light meets raindrops an incredible rainbow appears,
for giving the gray sky warm colours.
Sitting here inspires me about borders, about meeting,
and the power of nothing what is fuller than anything.
Like tofu, it has no taste, but can assume any taste.
Like the sea, where warm water meets cold, the most fishes swim.
By crossing a border, I meet different people with inspiring stories about the word human, agriculture and sustainability.
The border, a line to show differences.
New ideas, an other way, stepping out of habits are inspiring.
It is a way of looking at borders close, seeing it widely the differences disappear.
Like me and the Mongals, we are different because we don’t speak the same language.
But if we begin to smile, then we know we speak the same internationally recognized bodylanguage.
My mam passed away ten years ago, but in our memories she is still alive
Life is like the view, it never ends.