For Wilhelm Salber, everyday life was "the greatest". On the basis of more than 1,500 in-depth interviews, he set out to explore everyday life as we find it. His assessment:
"The everyday life of the soul is strange, comical, grotesque, paradoxical, uncanny... a vast machinery that oscillates between 'common' material and artistic design."
On the basis of Salber's book "Der Alltag ist nicht grau", published in 1989, and many other of his investigations, we will present everyday forms of life on this website at loose intervals. We will begin with waking up in the morning.

"Good morning, good morning, good" (The Beatles)

Is waking up in the morning a meaningless twilight state? Something that only has to do with the physiology of sleeping and waking? Psychological morphology disagrees. It understands waking up as a small "end of the world" and a small "creation of the world".

Waking up - that is both "end of the world" and "creation of the world"

In the minutes of growing up we leave behind us a barely comprehensible world of moving images. At the same time we get a foretaste of what the day brings with it and what has to be accommodated in it. As it emerges and fades away, expands and narrows, becomes tangible and blurs, the life of the soul experiences itself as a production in progress. Hardly anything can be held, it is in transition. The proximity to the current of the nocturnal soul life is palpable. But there are also differences. Because now we can intervene, set accents and taste whether we can tackle the tasks of this day werden werden.

The anticipations can go to paradise. Or visions of failure may arise from them. On the other hand, there are efforts to find orientation, to scan standards. This could succeed, this seems too much. Somehow one wants to preserve this transitional state. At the same time, however, one is also resisting it. At times, the dramatic images of the dream are spun further. Sometimes one surrenders to a new drama: Falling back into the sweetness of sleep or finally getting up and taking on the tasks of the day? Everything pushes for a jolt that ends the hovering.

In one way or another, the restless, mental production gradually takes shape upon waking. The distinction between outside and inside, between one's own and foreign, but also clock and space offer clues. Upcoming tasks, the pressure in the body call for a separation, which brings form and direction into sliding. Waking up is the end of waking up. Now it finds hold in the things of the apartment, in the usual ways and rituals. The beginning of the day is complete.

Text after W. Salber (1987): Everyday life is not grey (p. 34 f.)