Roughly four months after we arrived in Berlin, our bags are packed for our next location. We’re embarking on a three week camper trip and then spending two months in Neuss (across the Rhine from Düsseldorf).
Our time in the camper will be an adventure in free-form travelling as we have a very loose outline of where we’re going. Likely into Luxembourg, France, and Italy… possibly into Andorra, Spain, Switzerland, and Monaco. Wherever we go, we’re taking all of our stuff with us – although, thankfully, there’s not that much to carry!
While we didn’t come to Germany with a lot (three hockey bags, two laptops and other necessary electronics, and some dog paraphernalia), we’ve trimmed down our possessions even more. And considering that we pared down what we already thought were the bare basics before flying to Germany in November, it’s amazing that there’s anything more for us to purge!
Itchy Feet published this comic the other day and it fits perfectly with how we’ve reduced our cargo… and will likely continue to do so.
A year ago, we had a fully furnished, well-equipped two bedroom condo and no idea that we’d be travelling so much. Our downsizing started about this time last year in preparation for renovations and continued through our initial discussions about moving.
We dragged our three packed-to-the-brim, overweight hockey bags to Calgary… and left about a quarter of their contents there.
And while in Berlin we’ve probably let go of another 25%. Not quite at the passport and toothbrush stage, but getting closer!
It’s part terrifying and part liberating to have so little. It does make us a lot more mobile 🙂 , but can also feel a bit empty.
Thankfully, we’re able to fill any emptiness with amazing experiences, fabulous digital photos, and lots of incredible memories.
I suspect we’ll be back to Berlin to visit (or at least explore the city when it’s not so cold!), but it’s farewell for now.
The excess cargo, on the other hand, might be gone for good!
Not having a permanent address has made me think a lot about ‘home’. Is it a single location? Is it a feeling? Is it a situation? What makes somewhere ‘home’?
I’ve realized that ‘home’ is a moving target. It can be my parents’ house (where I grew up), a rented flat, a hotel room, a friends’ apartment.
Our flat in Berlin has certainly been ‘home’ for the last few months; we unpacked, settled in, and got really comfortable. The clothes are neatly organized. The products in the bathroom cabinet are sorted by type. The mailbox bears our names. Even the kitchen cupboards are arranged so they make the most sense to us.
Unpacking goes a long way towards making me feel comfortable. Whenever we move, all the boxes and bags are unpacked within the first 24 hours. As long as there’s closet/drawer space available, I empty out my luggage – even if I’m only there for a couple nights.
We leave this flat in just a few days and my definition of ‘home’ will shift again. But some components of ‘home’ stay the same. Home is familiar and comfortable. Home is where my husband and dog are. Home is settled and secure.
With my husband away, my dog and I are getting to spend lots of quality time together. It’s a good thing she thinks I’m a witty and insightful conversationalist as I’ve been talking to her a lot!
No one appreciates the very special genius of your conversation as the dog does.
The darkest day of the year is almost here and it certainly feels like the depths of winter in Berlin. The sun sets early and whatever rays are able to peek through the clouds are weak. It feels like time to hibernate.
Gloria Latham (founder of Semperviva Yoga in Vancouver) posted recently that It’s Dark for a Reason and I’m inclined to agree. In addition to the long nights encouraging long sleep-ins, cuddles with loved ones, and carbohydrate consumption, the darkness is also conducive to reflection, reading and writing, and generally taking stock.
Winter prods us to look inwards as we spend time indoors. And with any luck, that introspection leads to inspiration for the year to come!
Let us love winter, for it is the spring of genius.
~ Pietro Aretino
Italian author, playwright, poet, and satirist
It’s been more than two weeks since I taught my last yoga class at Bound Lotus Meditation & Yoga Centre. I’m already feeling the absence of teaching and I’m missing the students at my Friday evening class.
The last class I taught fell on the last Friday of October, which meant I did a lovely long relaxation. Leading students through yoga nidra (guided relaxation) and then a quiet savasana (corpse pose) is often a transcendent experience; my mind calms and time stands still.
There was such a deep stillness in my last class at Bound Lotus, it was hard for me to bring the students out of their relaxation. I wished the class would never end.
But there was a workshop immediately following the class and I knew that students probably had places to be (and meals to eat!) afterwards. Savasana ended, students woke up, class was over.
I usually close the class with an impromptu blessing of sorts and that last Friday class was no exception. These are my wishes, my hopes for my final class at Bound Lotus.
I hope you’re all able to drift home and have beautiful sleeps filled with amazing dreams.
I hope you awaken tomorrow feeling refreshed and renewed, ready to take on whatever your day, your week, your month, your year holds.
I hope you feel secure, supported, and comforted; that you are respected and prosperous.
I hope your lives are filled with meaning, with friendship, with adventure… and that you create many amazing memories.
Most of all, I hope you know deep love and powerful joy.
I share those same hopes with everyone who reads this and everyone I’ve ever taught. May you all know deep love and powerful joy.
The process of selling our place, paring down to the essentials, loading up a new storage locker, and heading overseas is intense. Keeping up show-home cleanliness, handling administrative stuff, managing our worried dog, hiding during condo showings, cooking with an ever-diminishing pantry, moving furniture, and getting through our to-do lists takes a lot of energy… and is emotionally taxing.
Thankfully, we have amazing friends and family who jump in – and even wonderfully supportive acquaintances! I’m awed by how willing people are to help and continually remind myself that it’s okay to seek assistance.
Ask for the support you need.
Graciously accept the help you’re given.
And trust in those who offer assistance.
Asking for help before the situation feels dire is a good thing. Most people are more than willing to provide support, they just need to be asked. Sometimes I wait until things feel desperate before asking for what I need, but it’s a lot easier to extend a courteous request when it’s not do-or-die!
Accepting aid with humility and thankfulness, rather than protesting, is an important part of cultivating relationships. Who hasn’t been through an awkward battle over a cheque where both parties want to treat the other? Often, a ‘Thank you’ is what’s really desired and resisting attempts to be taken care of leads to disagreements and ill will.
Trusting that people will not offer more than they can give is sometimes the hardest part. My husband likes to say that the worth of a favour is measured by how much it means to the recipient, which sometimes means that the offer feels enormous to the recipient and seems like no imposition at all to the giver. I try not to look gift horses in the mouth and have faith in the generosity of others, presuming that they will not compromise their own feelings or sacrifice their own needs.
Deep relationships are forged in times of change; asking for and accepting assistance is a big part of intensifying bonds and developing strong connections. Moving away from these amazingly supportive people is incredibly challenging, but at least I have been able to experience the depths of their generosity and have faith in the strength of the relationships. I know that all this support will continue regardless of how many time zones separate us!
My dog has been particularly curious recently. Lots of sniffing, cautious cat approaches, and lingering looks towards where rabbits used to be.
