As a person
A wise teacher. A genuine leader of mankind. An entrepreneur who brings out the best in his associates. A wealthy, rich person (internally and/or materially) who allows others to share in that wealth.
Learns and teaches through experience, deep insight into the laws of nature, benevolent wisdom, generous, well grounded!
A strange meeting
A. is sitting at the table in his study. Fresh air brings winter into the room through the tilted window. His nostrils flare. The smell of snow has a most delightful perfume today. His head aches. Dull he feels.
Everything at the same time.
So much is happening at the same time. In him, in the home with his wife, in the village, in the world. These simultaneities fascinate him. None takes account of the other. So many events simultaneously and carefree swing their maverick dancing legs: the war in Africa rages, Van Gogh's sunset touches the hearts of the museum visitors, the child on the swing cheers, the kissing couple under the linden tree forgets the time, the greedy banker at the stock exchange curses, the beggar with the accordion and the melancholic song receives a penny. A. is also a part of it. He, too, is a momentary phenomenon, bouncing from one simultaneity to the next, and poof, he’s gone.
And where is the King of Diamonds? When does he appear? Where is he hiding? - Ah, he is in the middle of this simultaneity. - Is it that man there? The one who looks like a beggar? What is he carrying on his lap? - An elongated wooden box! What is hidden in it? - A crucible, says the other. - How does he know? - Ah, he has met him before.
The alleged beggar with the beautiful eyes, the King of Diamonds, beckons to A. and the Other. They should sit down with him. Now, in winter, on this cold park bench? Fortunately, the Other has brought a blanket. So he already knew about all this! Without him, A. would be somewhere else now, in another simultaneity.
But A. sits on the park bench with the king of diamonds and the Other. He feels good in this simultaneousness. He is curious.
A. remembers his treasure chest. When he was five, his father had given it to him. The father knew about his love for small things from nature. Until then, A. had carefully stored his treasures in an empty candy box. There was a tiny, left-turned little house of a young vine snail, a few flat slate stones, the size of a penny, on which he had drawn spirals with a pencil, and then some of those beautiful seed pods of poppies, gifts from the neighbouring cornfield.
Now back to the King of Diamonds. What does he possibly carry around in that thing? It seems to be a crucible! The sound of this word promises magic!
So A. and the Other sit together, with the King of Diamonds in the middle, next to each other on the bench. Quiet. Time to just be there. A. is not used to this. His shoulders drop all at once. It has gone unnoticed when he raised them. Now, in a new simultaneity with the King, he starts feeling at ease. His hands in his coat pockets are warm.
His eyes are closed. Inwardly, he observes himself drawing spirals on the black slate stones. The darker grey of the pencil marks turn the stones into the most beautiful pieces of jewellery. This quiet aesthetic opened his eyes at an early age to the wonders in nature.
There! A. cold stream of air through the tilted window catapults A. into the present and he knows: the King of Diamonds, the supposed beggar on the park bench with the wooden box, this wonderful rich person, that's me!