Hi guys.  I am heading to Crete tonight for three weeks, without my computer. Since I don’t like to write on my iPhone, that means you won’t be hearing from me for a while. I will be walking this nice blue boardwalk on a daily basis. Balcony to beach 10 meters babies. Check Baladinos Apartments if you fell in love like I did. Crete is just one of those 111 place to see before you die. Yeah!

theopusinfinity will be back in October with some new stuff. I hope to come back with a big tan and some great stories to tell.

Have a great late summer. Weather in Germany is fabulous.

A big Kalimera and Namasté Brothers and Sisters



My life experience is what makes me write. Let me share parts of it with you. The portion that inspires my writing, that I feel most passionately about penning to paper. The portion that led to me walking the path and live my spirituality every day through mediation and deed.

My life’s story is different from that of many 36 year olds and I had strong reservations about coming-out and sharing it. The past twelve years, I have been struggling with a diagnosis of bipolar disorder. It’s been bad. 20 episodes. Seven of them manic-psychotic. 13 depressions. For a large portion I was just trying to stay alive. The onset of an episode was followed by hospitalization, was followed by reintegration into the job, was followed by brief recovery and the semblance of a normal life was followed by a new break. The cycle repeated itself. The institutionalized system was unable to stabilize, less cure me. I was told to accept what happened. That my condition could only be managed, never healed. I was told to create a version of myself that was ok with what was happening to me. One clueless doctor chased the next, medication was on and off like crazy, dosages changed, pills changed. Nothing. I have been told the usual fairy-tale of biochemical imbalance. As if a serotonine and dopamine imbalance would explain the emotional trauma and pain. On a certain level, I was critical of the paradigm I was being fed. On another level, I clinged to it as there was nothing else to replace it. Maybe if I take my medication, don’t drink alcohol, exercise and do ten other things from the list of my behavioralist it will finally work. I tried it. It didn’t.

At one point in fall 2011 depression was marching in with the usual force and for the first time, I made the conscious decision not to go into the hospital. Even more, I refrained from calling what was happening to me depression or an illness. I decided to study what was going on with an open and unburdened mind, unencumbered by psychiatric theory and psychological interpretation. It was a major step for me. I was so afraid. I debunked all every doctor ever said to me and started my own book. I was open to new possibilities and that by itself was very liberating.

As chance has it, right about that time, I got into contact with a new therapist. A therapist I myself would have considered fringe a couple of years back. Not the usual behavioralist, but a gestalt therapist. I remember my first session like it was yesterday. I came into his office and had to take of my shoes. That alone would have discounted him as an “esoteric” a couple of years back. I entered a room full of cushions and foam blocks covered in cloth. My god, what is going on here? “This is our working space.”, he said. So we sat down and talked. I expected he wanted to hear the whole works, how it all started, how I was treated, how many episodes, what triggered those. And then he asked me a baffling question: “What do you feel in your body when you talk about this?”. I was dumb-founded. My body? What does that have to do with it? Isn’t it all just a brain thing? Behavioral routines gone awry? I described by bodily sensations to him. The numbness, the heavy head, the tingling in my arms and legs, the queasy stomach and the rock in my bowels. “Dive into that sensation in your bowels. Which feeling does that correspond to?”. It was rage. So the set me up with a big foam block and told me to take out my rage on the thing with controlled but heavy hitting. And as I was doing that, “depression” lifted. At the end of the session he said: “See there is a lot of energy within you, you just need to tap it.”. Getting out of the thing, just by this simple exercise, even for only a few minutes, it baffled me. I continued to work with him (still do) and got better.

About half a year later I finally chose to shed a spiritual perspective on the whole thing. I have been meditating for a couple of years already, mainly calming and relaxing meditations without any spiritual colouring. I have had my share of spiritual experiences around and in my manic-psychotic episodes. However, up until summer 2012, I was not able to fullly and consistently embrace the possibility that my experiences had any lasting meaning. I bought into the crap the doctors put out that my experiences are delusions and have nothing to do with reality.

I quickly learned different.

Studying spirituality, I found that many of the ideas and sensations I had during mania are mainstay concepts of many spiritual schools and/or experiences made during advanced forms of meditation.

Given that most are unfamiliar with “manic symptoms” let me explain the experience in very bold strokes. Generalizations based on own experiences may occur :-). Mania is a very heightened state of consciousness. You have a tremendous amount of energy and drive. Your creativity and associative thinking are at astonishingly high levels. You feel elated, bursting with joy and full of bliss. A torrent of energy runs through you. You are like a superconductor, channeling energy effortlessly and without any resistance. Any block in your system is gone. Your perception changes. Colours become more vibrant, sounds more resonant. Everything smells intensely. Every piece of food your eat tastes like ambrosia. Your sense of touch is heightened to a degree that a small breeze of air touching your skin sends shivers of joy and appreciation down your spine. Most wondrously is the overwhelming sense of knowing. A composition of a thousand pages long coming alive in five seconds of divine ecstasy. You perceive, feel even see patterns of energy playing themselves out in forms of people, interactions, things. It’s like hacking the Matrix. Full administrator priviliges. I always felt a most beautiful sense of connectedness. There was no difference between the inside and the outside. The concept of seperation collapsed. All is One. I felt unconditional love, a profound sense of being carried and supported no matter what. I felt guided. My consciousness was making new connections between seemingly unrelated topics at a break-neck speed. Reality became this marvelous symphony. It was a revelation, an awakening – a sunny day after a life in Plato’s cave. Clarity beyond anything ever experienced.

I felt called to share my discovery with everyone else. And doing that unfiltered, assuming everybody to share your perception (as it is so obvious) you appear completely crazy. On top, maintaining this high level of energy is not sustainable. Your body grows tired, your brain overwhelmed. Lack of sleep adds to the toll. A high level of frustration builds once you realize that no one understands you.

Eventually things subside over time or due to brutal pharmaceutical intervention. It is the feeling of loss that ensues that, in my humble opinion, accounts for all of the negative “symptoms” of mania.

So I had all of this in me, and no way to explain it. I felt the truth of my experience but doubted myself constantly. If psychiatry destroy one thing its your intuition.

But enough for now. I will continue this story in my next post. Have a great week.


This story is about a little boy. Or a little girl. Or a grown-up with lots of imagination.

Once, the world was shrouded in blackness. And the children of God lived in darkness. They had forgotten who they once had been. They had forgotten who they truly were.

One night a little boy gazed at the stars. He was wondering. What might it be like to be a star? What was that thing again about the stars and the planets dancing? Abound the music of the spheres? Can stars dance and sing? And if they do, what do I feel when I imagine that to be true.

“I can imagine anything I want”, the little boy said to himself. So he decided to imagine that the stars danced and sung. And a feeling of bliss and lightheartedness touched his soul. “Does my soul know the dance of the stars?”, the boy asked.

As if answering to his question, a star began to light up, twinkle and dance. It was like heavenly laughter, directly from the sky, coming from within, from the boy’s heart. “Huiiiiii…”, the star spoke. “I am Sirius. People called me the Dog Star”. And the boy felt the star within him. Drunken with joy and bliss he casts his soul into the heavens.

But heaven was too far away.

So the boy wept bitterly. “How can you instill such joy and longing within me, when I can never reach you?”. And the star spoke from the boy’s heart: “Why do you seek something without that you already carry within?”. “Within me?”, the boy asked. “You are a strange and funny star. I am only a little boy!”. “Only a little boy, ah yes. How many little boys can talk to stars you presume?”.

Thus the boy went into his heart to seek the answer. And he found it. And he felt special. The answer was so big and he so small.

The boy got scared. Very, very scared.

And fear brought darkness over his heart. And so the boy forgot the answer. He forgot his star. And he wandered in blackness and suffered the agony of a thousand deaths. Stil, something was different. Where others stumbled, he did not fall. Where others cried, he did not lose hope. Sometimes, it occured to him, the darkness seemed to retreat from him and part itself. Slowly moving backwards, growling like a wolf.

And so the boy asked the Darkness: “Why are you so scared of me that you pull yourself back?”. “Because I do not like you, you stupid little boy. You ruin everything down here. Where am I supposed to go when everybody is like you? I have a right to be here, too! And you take it away from me through pursuing your drunken delusions of the light and dance of the stars!”. That was the long answer of the Darkness. “People got used to me. Some even like me. But love me, like the stars like you and vice versa… nobody does that.”.

With a great and cruel growl the Darkness lurched for the boy. Terror consumed him and his body was frozen. The boy could do nothing but watch the Darkness swallow him. To be seized by the giant Wolf of the Night.

Shrouded in Darkness, he lost his fear and suddenly realized: “Darkness, I am like you!”. Darkness held back and said: “You want to be like me? You don’t even understand me. Nobody does! I am so tired of it!”.

And the boy cried for the Darkness. And he realized that both, the Darkness and The Light of the Stars have their place and purpose.

And within him, a memory arose and he spoke the words of Creation.

“In the beginning was the six. And the six birthed sky and earth. And the six created his image in man and thus created the SEVEN. For him to be a rainbow bridge, connecting earth and sky. Thus the Six was threefold and yet one. And now that the SIX was Three and One and she felt that, his spirit ignited. And the Six became God. And God spoke: Let there be light! And there was light, to seperatre the night from the day. That was how god created the decision, polarity and free will.

And he sent the Bringer of Light down unto the forming earth to teach man about the Light and the Darkness. About good and evil. And he created space and time in order for man to be able to experience all that was within Him. That was how confusion came over man. And Lucifer, the Bringer of Light, became the devil. And man didn’t know him for what he was and forgot the meaning of his name. But Lucifer didn’t falter, because he knew about God’s love for his creation and for himself.

And so he decided to forget all about himself and become a man. He did this, because he wanted to know why man feared him. And as a man, he strayed in all four corners of the world. And when all was close to being lost forever, he remembered who he was. And his light radiated gently and peacefully. And the people began to understand that they have been created from this Light.

And that is how God became fully aware of Herself and the Age of Love began.

Viersen, February 7 2015



Die Geschichte handelt von einem kleinen Jungen. Es kann aber genauso ein kleines Mädchen sein. Oder ein Erwachsener mit viel Phantasie.

Einst lag die Welt im Dunkeln. Und die Kinder Gottes lebten in der Dunkelheit. Sie hatten vergessen, wer sie waren. Sie hatten vergessen, wer sie sind

Eines Nachts blickte ein kleiner Junge zu den Sternen. Er war verwundert. Was heißt es wohl, ein Stern zu sein? Wie war das mit dem Tanzen? Können Sterne tanzen? Und wenn ja, was fühle ich, wenn ich mir vorstelle, dass die Sterne tanzen.

Ich kann mir alles vorstellen, was ich will, sagte der Junge zu sich. Also beschloss er, sich vorzustellen, dass Sterne tanzen. Und ein Gefühl der Freude und Leichtigkeit rührte seine Seele an. “Kennt meine Seele den Tanz der Sterne?”, fragte sich der Junge.

Da begann ein Stern zu leuchten, zu zwinkern und zu tanzen. Es war wie ein Lachen, direkt vom Himmel, im Herzen des kleinen Jungen. “Huuuiiiiii…”, sprach der Stern. “Ich bin Sirius. Man nennt mich auch den Hundestern.”. Und der Junge fühlte den Stern. Freudentrunken warf er seine Seele gen Himmel.

Aber der Himmel war zu weit.

Also weinte der Junge bitterlich. “Wie kannst du solche Freude und Sehnsucht in mir wecken, wenn ich dich nie erreichen kann?”. Und dann sprach der Stern aus des Jungen Herzens: “Warum suchst du etwas, was du längst in dir trägst?”. “In mir?”, fragte der kleine Junge, “Du bist mir aber ein komischer Stern. Ich bin doch nur ein kleiner Junge!”. “Nur ein kleiner Junge, aha. Wie viele Jungen können wohl mit Sternen sprechen, was denkst Du?”

Also ging der Junge in sein Herz um die Antwort zu finden. Und er fand sie. Und er fühlte sich besonders. Die Antwort war so groß und er so klein.

Also bekam der Junge Angst. Sehr viel Angst.

Und die Angst brachte Dunkelheit über sein Herz. Und so vergaß der Junge die Antwort. Er vergaß seinen Stern. Und er wandelte in der Finsternis und litt innerlich tausend Tode. Und doch war etwas anders. Wo die anderen stolperten, da fiel er nicht. Wo die anderen weinten, verzweifelte er nicht. Manchmal war es ihm, als würde sich die Dunkelheit vor ihm zurückziehen, sich teilen. Zurückweichen, grollend wie ein Wolf.

Also fragte der Junge die Dunkelheit: “Warum hast du Angst vor mir, so dass du zurückweichst?”. “Weil ich dich nicht leiden kan, du doofes Eierloch. Du machst hier alles kaputt. Wo soll ich denn hingehen, wenn alle so werden wie du? Auch ich hab ein Recht, hier zu sein! Und du nimmst es mir, weil du deinen trunkenen Wahn vom Licht der Sterne ohne jegliche Rücksicht auf mich verfolgst!”, war die lange Antwort der Dunkelheit. “Die Menschen haben sich so an mich gewöhnt. Einige mögen mich sogar. Aber lieben, so wie Dich die Sterne und Du die Sterne, tut mich keiner.”

Mit einem riesigen Grollen sprang die Dunkelheit den Jungen an. Schrecken fuhr ihm ins Mark. Vor lauter Schreck waren ihm die Glieder wie gefroren. Also konnte der Junge nichts anderes tun, als die Dunkelheit über sich schwappen zu lassen. Sich fressen zu lassen vom großen Wolf der Nacht.

Eingehüllt in die Dunkelheit verlor er seine Angst und verstand plötzlich. “Dunkelheit, ich bin wie Du!”. Die Dunkelheit hielt inne. “Du willst wie ich sein? Du verstehst mich doch nicht einmal. Keiner versteht mich! Ich bin es leid!”.

Und der Junge weinte für die Dunkelheit. Und ich wurde klar, dass beide, die Dunkelheit und das Sternenlicht ihren Sinn haben und ihren Zweck erfüllen.

Und in ihm kam eine Erinnerung auf und er sprach die Worte der Schöpfung:

“Am Anfang war die 6. Und die 6 gebar Himmel und Erde. Und die 6 Schuf ihr Abbild im Menschen und schuf so DIE SIEBEN. Auf das er eine Regenbogenbrücke sei, die Himmel und Erde verbindet. So war die 6 dreifach und doch eins. Und jetzt da die 6 drei und eins war und sie dies fühlte entzündete sich ihr Geist. Und aus der 6 wurde Gott. Und Gott sprach: Es werde Licht! Und es ward Licht zu scheiden die Nacht vom Tage. Damit schuf Gott die Entscheidung, die Polarität und den freien Willen.”

Und er entsandte den Bringer des Lichts auf die sich formende Erde, um den Menschen zu lehrer über das Licht und die Dunkelheit. Über Gut und Böse. Und er schuf Zeit und Raum um sie dies erfahren zu lassen. Und so kam die Verwirrung über den Menschen und Lucifer, der Bringer des Lichts, wurde der Teufel. Und die Menschen verkannten ihn und vergaßen die Bedeutung seines Namens. Doch Lucifer blieb unbeirrt, denn er wusste um die Liebe Gottes für seine Schöpfung und für ihn.

Und so beschloss er dies zu vergessen, und ein Mensch zu werden. Er tat dies, weil er wissen wollte, warum die Menschen ihn fürchteten. Und als Mensch wandelte er in alle 4 Ecken der Welt. Und als Alles verloren schien, erinnerte er sich wer er war. Und sein Licht erstrahlte sanft und friedlich. Und die Menschen begannen zu verstehen, dass sie aus diesem Licht erschaffen sind.

Und so wurde Gott sich selbst volkommen bewusst und das Zeitalter der Liebe begann.

Viersen, den 7. Februar 2015

IHS Benjamin

(MY first attempt at Dadaism ;-);-);-))

Interviewer: John Dandy (a.k.a Junior)
Interviewee: God (Robert Stark)

John Dandy: Well, finally, God has given us the right to broadcast the following interview and…
God: Given, Junior, Given??? I didn’t give you anything. You did!Rob Stark: Behead the Idiot already and be done with it. I have a dragon to catch.

Enters the Fool (a.k.a Benjamin): SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT IT AND STOP WHINING LIKE LITTLE PRISSIES OVER WHAT IS YELLOW AND WHAT IS GREEN. WHO REALLY CARES? i Certainly dont give a shit! And I am still alive. So that shit has to work for everyone.

And so the Fool continued his rant until John, God and Robert were completely worn down. He is a good man, that fool. Really. And in that intention, he feels it is necessary to initiate a massive, preventive strike against all idiocy in this world with the full force of his wrath, which does not exist.

How can you be sure he is not in impostor? IMPOSTOR??? Well, he doesn’t care about appearances, so neither should you.

He kindly asks you to consider the 10 Commandment crap he wrote earlier as null and void and issues a new book called: “The Only Commandment”. It is completely blank, which is the joke. And since he is the Fool. LALALALA

And so the Lord sayeth: Let there be only one commandment added to the 10 so far.
11: Always be true to yourself

The writer of this text is very bold and fearful at the same time. He has a bipolar tendency. That might include killing youself for no reason etc. Luckily. After pressing the “Publish” button, the writer will be healed, thereby remedying all states. I hand the staff to whoever wants it. I really dont wanna do that 😉


I hereby affirm wholy and compelely that I wrote this out of my free will as a child of God.


Image by lueckbuesser.org


My god am I scared to write this first blog entry. Exposing myself to public opinion. Running the risk of being criticised, analysed, judged. I am afraid. I am fearful. I fear fear itself.

“Fear itself”, the famous epithet from Franklin Deleanor Roosevelts 1942 inauguration address.

“So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is…fear itself — nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.”

Fear has been a recurring theme in my life. I remember, when I was a 10-year old, I climbed a 30 meter high wall in an abandoned quarry. At one point, I was just hanging there, seeing no way further up the slope and seeing no way back. I hung there, paralyzed, in terror, afraid I was gonna fall. I finally made it. Why am I telling you this? Well, I think the story teaches a lesson. Feeling fear. Acting on fear. Overcoming fear. I did not feel my fear before I started scaling the wall. I did not see the risk. I suppressed my fear. I overcame it. And I risked my life in the process.

Not wanting to feel fear, suppressing and overcoming it against my most basic instinct is a recurring theme in my life. As a boy, I wanted to be loved, respected and popular among the other kids. So I took up every challenge. Climbing this and that. Jumping from a 10 m tower or off a cliff. I started to become the showman I was in my teen and early adult years. Give me a stage, and I will perform. No matter how it made me feel. All just for the fix of feeling appreciated. I wanted to be a hero. The boy wonder. The prince. A theme that still haunts me today. Aragorn, in Lord of the Rings, before the battle in Helm’s Deep says to himself “I give hope to men, I keep none to myself”. That is pretty much how I thought about myself. A courageous leader, without fear, so that the other could be fearless themselves. I read a lot at that age and was drawn to fantasy and sci-fi. I always identified with the hero. Most of us probably do. But it quickly became more. I started to imagine what it would be like to be this hero myself. To read the Neverending Story and become Bastian Balthasar Bux, the shy protagonist with his counterpart Atreju. To ride Fuchur in real life. Be the character. Not “Dividing Fiction from Reality” (Sparrows and the Nightingales, Wolfsheim). When I was ten years old or so, there was a very popular kid’s show on TV called “The Little Vampire”. It was set in a tomb where a family of “nice” vampires lived. They all had cloaks with which they could fly. But they needed “flying powder”. I dreamed of being a vampire, and have such a cloak. I imagined Rudiger (the hero) placing a jar of flying powder under my desk each day before I came back to school. It never happened, but I believed, that, if I really wanted it, it would happen. I recently found out, that this is the way the universe works. But thats another story, and will be told at another time.

That still is my mechanism. Not wanting to feel fear. Fleeing into a heroic reality, compensating all my weaknesses in a manic fantasy of omnipotence, courage and valour. Charging myself with the thought that I alone could save the world. Seeing myself standing in a pillar of light, bursting with energy, ready to change the world. Then, when nothing like that happens, capitulating in front of this grandiose imagery, feeling small and worthless and collapsing into depression. Fear of fear itself became so strong, that I manifested my heroic fantasies and ensuing collapses so strongly that I was finally diagnosed bipolar. I manifested an illness in order not to have to feel fear. The swings became so strong, that my whole world was shattered into pieces. That was the point where I started to become aware of this pattern and tried to change it. My bipolar disorder was a curse, but also a blessing. I learned a lot about myself. But fear came last. It is only in the past year or so that I allow myself to feel it. And for a large portion of the time, I still  suppressed it because I believed some idiots that stated that enlightened spiritual beings must release fear.

I now know that this is a load of crap. I feel my fear now. I work with it every day. I let it flow through my body. Fear is a powerful emotion. Fear is energy. Fear guides us.

In 11th grade, I had to analyse “The Fairly Intelligent Fly” for a term paper. I wrote one sentence: “The speaker of this poem is a very fearful person”.

Well, the author of this blog is a very fearful person. But that will not stop me. Aware of my fear, I will reclaim my life, without heroics, without collapse, without bipolar disorder. One step at a time.

“Together we’ll stand, fighting for our lives, to become the ones we want to be.”