Yaga in Amsterdam

From the quiet and dreamy West Country with its hills and orchards, I ventured back into busier environments at the end of April.

It seems like a long way away now, although it only just happened a few weeks ago. I was back in London for a couple of days but was not sorry to leave it behind me. This city is just too huge and scary for a country girl like me.

A short flight took me to Amsterdam, where I met a very dear old friend.

Vanja is one of the most hospitable souls that I know. Her place in Amsterdam is tiny, but she was sharing it not only with a (lovely!) roommate, but also with me and my friends during the almost two weeks that I stayed there and you could not wish for a more welcoming and accommodating host.

On our first evening together we discovered an absolutely adorable African restaurant and chatted until long after midnight. We felt like best friends even though we hadn’t seen each other in about five years!

The next day, I took the train to Texel in the North of the Netherlands for a few days. It was nice to leave city life behind again and I’ll tell you about my island adventures in the next post.

On the Saturday after my return to Amsterdam I picked a very special friend up from the airport. Tali and me were friends back in Switzerland when we met through couchsurfing and lived across the street from each other. Before she left to go back to Brazil we traveled to Amsterdam together and so it felt super special to meet up in the same city four years later!

Tali’s friend Hana, who lives in Amsterdam at the moment, joined for the welcome party.

We spent out days exploring the city, going on girly shopping tours, discovering fun street art, and of course chatting chatting chatting.



In the mornings I would meditate, do yoga and exercise in the park with Vanja, spend the days hanging around the city with Hana and Tali, and then we’d all have cookouts together in the evening.

Vanja made her amazing avocado chocolate pudding, we experimented with vegan mac and cheese, and many other yummi things!

Sometimes, a pic nic in the middle of a busy square in town was also in order.




(I didn’t eat the kitty, of course. But it used to sneak into Vanja’s house in search of treats!)

I did realise a lot about how food is such a lovely way to connect. I used to think of it as a drawback because social eating (and drinking) is sometims hard to combine with eating healthy and control your portions. But if we shift perspective and are creative, the bonding experience that a lovely (healthy and clean) meal provides, and the energy that consciously sharing a meal creates is amazing.


Amsterdam is not Amsterdam without bikes of course. It’s such a big part of why I love this place so much! So one sunny sunny day, Tali and me set out on a countryside tour, exploring the outskirts of the city. We hoped to see tulip fields, but sadly it was already a bit too late in the year for that. Biking along the canals and into the green, meeting baby lambs and goats on the way was not too bad though!



We stopped for lunch in a lovely tiny restaurant where we lounged around on the terrace for ages, enjoying the sun and chatting, eating lovely salad.


The little old town that we reached at the end of our trip was just dreamy, it even had a castle.



It was a long way back into town, but we found some tulips finally…


And made it back just in time for a lovely (if a little bit chilly) pic nic with everybody in one of Amsterdam’s big parks. There was a festival going on, so we hit the stalls for some crepes tasting and music afterwards. I’m so grateful for all the lovely weather we had during out stay, which made every day feel truly special.



Vanja generously agreed to cut my hair (which was really necessary), and spent a good couple of hours (plus some youtube researching) giving me the most professional home-haircut I’ve ever had!
It also meant that our dinner was laaaaate, but we managed to keep going until the awesome pancake feast was ready, and we killed time listening to old Swiss children’s songs and watching cartoons from our childhood.



Its almost the same as in January, when I had it done at the hairdressers!


On our last day, we ventured into the library, where we spent a couple of hours reading random books and admiring the most amazing doll (mouse) house ever made!






Seriously, that thing is fascinating! I have no idea how Tali managed to just fall asleep right next to it… must have been overwhelmed by its amazing-ness!

We closed the circle by having dinner at our new favourite African place before Tali and me left for Zurich on the night train. Super lovely evening and we were all really sad that our time together was coming to an end. Of course we are all hoping for the next time!






(With Marise, the most charming host you can imagine!)


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Glastonbury impressions

The majority of my time in Glastonbury was bathed in sunlight and spent outdoors, with bare feet, sunglasses, and flowers in my hair. I could not have wished for a more perfect place to spend the first precious summer days at.

Wandering through the extensive grounds of the historic abbey, reading under a magnolia tree, dipping my toes into the icy cold waters of Chalice Well… I feel so continously blessed with the beauty of Mother Earth!







I also felt so lucky to have loving hearts and beautiful souls to share this abundance with. Lalita, Lakshmi, John, Mark, Iris, Helen, Cleandho, and so many others who, for shorter or longer moments, sparked the connection of my soul and taught me that love and a loving heart are the answer, always.















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Gog and Magog

Most people who visit Glastonbury make it up to the Tor, but few venture further out of town than the short stroll up the steep hill.

It is well worth extending the walk for a little bit longer through the hedges and fields though. Not far behind the Tor Hill, there is another special place to visit.

Two ancient oaks grow next to the path here in solemn silence. – Gog and Magog, purposedly named after an ancient biblical race of giants, are honored and respected by many people in Glastonbury and around.

Urban legend has it that the two impressive oak trees were once part of a long ceremonial druidic alley, leading up towards the Tor.
Some people claim they were saplings when Joseph of Arithmea planted the holy thorn tree not far from where they stand (which would make them 2000 years old).

“This avenue was cut down around 1906 to clear the ground of a farm, but someone from the timber firm remembers one of the oaks being 11 feet in diameter and more than 2000 season rings were counted.” (Extract from Maker of Myths – Published by Gothic Image)

Another urban legend I was told stated that all the trees were supposed to be cut down – but the workers who were employed to fell and take them away were feeling uneasy about killing all the wonderful oaks, and when they got to the last two, they refused to continue their work.

In reality, the threes are probably no older than 500 years, judging by the circumference of their trunks and comparing them to other old oaks in Britain. Even though they bear the names of giants, Gog and Magog are by far not the biggest oak trees in Britain. They don’t even make it on the list of great British trees on wikipedia.

Gog has been dead since 2008, and a fire scarred and singed one side of his consort, Magog. She is still alive, although she looks old and tired.

But the locals love their ‘giant oaks’, and have much reverence for them. Upon a visit, you will notice many different gifts that people have left to show their respect, or ask the spirits of the trees for help. Ribbons are fastened to the old withered branches, crystals and coins tucked into the folds of their gnarly barks, and food and drink are left at their feet.




Gog and Magog stand in quiet contemplation, stretching their old branches towards the sky. And as you sit and rest in between the roots that they have been digging into the soil of Somerset for times longer than we can imagine, you can feel their ancient, peaceful souls reach out for yours.


Never mind if any of the legends are true. Regardless of the count of their years, or the measures of their trunks, people instinctively tread more softly as they reach the grove of Gog and Magog. A calm feeling of peace and quiet muffles the sounds of the nearby farm and caravan park. 

This is a sacred site. You are in the company of ancient souls, and you will feel it.

Pay your respects, as many have done before you. Say your own prayers, and then present the gift that seems suitable for you. Receive your blessings, and when you leave, take with you the gifts of calm, love, and acceptance that you have received.

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A day out in Bath

Because I was staying at the ashram for longer than volunteers usually do, I was allowed a day off halfway through my stay. To be honest, I was very tempted to just bunk up and sleep all day. But I didn’t want to waste precious moments, and I felt like it would be good to leave the ashram bubble and venture out a bit further on that day. And so I jumped on a bus and made my way to Bath on a crisp but sunny Friday morning.

(I only took this picture because of Edgar, the neighbour cat back in Glasgow…!)

The city is nice and picturesque, and was easy to navigate.
I spent a lot of time in the abbey church admiring beautiful artwork and praying, thinking about different religions and philosophies and remembering my days in the Catholic Church.

Beautiful stainglass windows.


The skeleton ceiling is absoutely breathtaking. I wasn’t able to take a picture that would do it justice.
I love historic sites, especially churches, graveyards, and castles. I feel such a tingling from those old stones and walls… and every time I catch myself thinking… ‘if only they could talk!’

This artwork was done by a lady who created beautifully illustrated writing and a corresponding embroidered artwork for all stages of the Passion of Christ.
I wished I could take them all home with me. Each page is worked with so much care, skill, and devotion. It’s pure bhakti!!


I sat in a lovely park for my lunch and ambled through the streets of the city center until it was time to catch the bus home. I’m not sure if I should have visited the thermes, but the entrance fee was really expensive, and I felt like the abbey had filled my cultural concsiousness almost completely, so I wasn’t sure if I could take in any more.


I’m glad to have seen the place that the rest of my family have been raving to me about for the past few years!

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Shekinashram and my heart

Glastonbury is a tourist hotspot. It’s a wonderfully sweet little town with so many historical, mystic and magical places to see, great food to eat, and – let’s face it – the shopping is awesome!

I do find it tiring after a very short while. And it is not Glastonbury itself that makes me come back. I’m not here for the hustle and bustle. I’m here for the opposite. The quiet sanctuary tucked away at the foot of the Tor.

It’s not a perfect place. Nowhere in this worldly realm is. But it is a place that makes my heart sing in many different ways.

I love the quietude of the garden on a sunny afternoon. I love the structured days that focus on loving service both to the divine, the guests, and the institution of the ashram, expressed in temple ceremonies, hard work, lovingly prepared food, and a lot of heart to heart connection with people that you have not known long at all.

It’s hard to describe what really makes this place feel like a home. I don’t think the reason for this connection is tied very much to describable circumstances or relationships. It’s a vibration of the heart and a feeling that at this time in my life, this is a safe place for me. A place that offers me sanctuary, learning, development, and nurturing.

The days and weeks fluctuate naturally between busy periods with a lot of people cramming into small spaces, and quiet times of reflection and inward looking.

Bloom the cat (and real owner of the place), shows how it’s done.

I learn new things here. Everyone is a teacher, everyone a pupil. On this sunny afternoon, I learned to play the harmonium.

We open our hearts to each other. It doesn’t really work any other way. People live close together, personal space and time is rare, and most of us have come here because we have things to work through. The circumstances do not favour hiding away feelings and issues. That means that sometimes, there are difficult moments. Fights, misunderstandings. But always, there is sincere desire and effort to clear away the clouds, and share hearts abundant with love.


Now that I am back, I do enjoy sitting down for hours, catching up on ‘computer work’. Reading up on things, chatting with friends, organising pictures and writing blogposts. But when you are at shekinashram, things like these fade away into unimportance. Every moment of a day is so precious and full with experience and learning, that there is just no real capacity for anything else than the life in the present, right in front of you.


It is a beautiful and humbling experience to be so utterly caught up in the moment, holding on to your own energy just barely by being present with everything that happens and unfolds itself around you.

Even though volunteers only work four hours a day, that doesn’t seem to leave much free time, and lack of private space make hiding away and taking a time out very hard. For me at least, because I’m always afraid I will miss an encounter, a conversation, a beautiful moment with all the people and happenings that float in and out of the gates.

During my four weeks at the ashram, I was lucky enough to be present for a few special occasions. We celebrated Hanuman’s birthday, experienced a blood full moon with an eclipse, and one weekend, Sudevi and Kishori Mohan visited to fill the ashram with their knowledge, wisdom, love, and their absolutely wonderful kirtan music.
Also during that time, I had the great opportunity to take part in a five day cleanse that included juice fasting, a liver flush, and a colonic irrigation. I am very grateful to have been immersed in so many different experiences in such a safe and supported space.


(Below is where I slept most of the time. It’s a shared cabin with five bunk beds that is mostly occupied by the karma yogis or volunteers, but often guests will stay here for a few nights if they are looking for cheap accommodation.)

Back in the ‘real world’ now, I feel like a part of me has been taken away and my heart is yearning to go back to where I feel so connected to life, people, and myself. But I know that the seed of shekinashram mood is within my heart, and it is in my own hands to cultivate it and take the home of my heart with me wherever I may go from here.

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Beltane in Glastonbury

I felt very happy that I was able to spend the 1st of May celebrations in Glastonbury. On the evening of the 30st, a large crowd gathered at the Goddess Hall for the raising of the May Pole and a dance with the colorful ribbons.

Sadly, I had been kept up at the ashram and missed most of the ceremony, but I arrived in time for the final prayers and the jumping over the fire.




It was a lovely feeling to just be among the crowd of jolly and dressed up people. I met some friends and we went inside the hall to admire the wonderfully decorated altars and light some wish candles.




Isn’t She gorgeous!!?

On May 1st in the early morning, we set off for Chalice Well Gardens. Despite the early hours, we joined a throng of people all on a pilgrimage to the gardens, where a big fire had been lit. The crowd was even bigger than the night before. We joined hands in a big prayer circle and breathed in the frewh morning air and the whisps of smoke from the fire, connecting our hearts in joy for the awakening and abundance of Mother Earth.



Then it was fire jumping time once again!


Afterwards we sat by the lovely decorated well head in silence for a while, before I headed back to the ashram for my last breakfast there.


I wasn’t quite in a situation where I felt very connected to the spiritual side of the holiday so much, but since I usually live in an environment where nobody is aware of the holidays I celebrate, it was really satisfying to see the whole town up on its feet for Beltane ceremonies over those two days. It was a bit sad to miss the big ceremony that was to take place later in the morning on the town square, after which there would be a big procession all the way up to the Tor to put up the official Maypole.

But I have a feeling I might be back to see another Beltane, and I’m looking forward to that.

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Welcome to the ashram

Tref and me stayed at Shekinashram the very first time he took me to Somerset and showed me around Glastonbury. We slept in the tiny yurt under a big tree in the garden, and I fell in love. I’ve come back at every opportunity since then, and in Summer 2013, before moving to Scotland, I spent two weeks helping out as a volunteer - or Karma Yogi – around the house.

I’ve been longing to go back and reconnect with all the people I met and learnt to love during that time. Before the big move to the States, I decided I really needed to take the time and immerse myself in ashram life one last time before leaving Europe. I volunteered at the ashram during the month of April.

The ashram is a spiritual community, B&B, and holistic retreat center. It also functions as a hub for various classes during the day time, and a social and devotional focus point for a lot of spiritual people in Glastonbury.

The temple room is the spiritual and holistic heart of the ashram. The residents, volunteers, and devotees meet here first thing in the morning to begin their day with devotional service, readings, chanting, and meditation.

All classes and workshops and many therapies take place in the temple room. If there is no program going on, guests, residents, and visitors alike use the room for personal practise, from yoga over singing and playing instruments to meditating and dancing.

The morning program starts at 7am with prayers and offerings to the Deities, and concludes at 8am with a 30min silent meditation. Most days at 6pm, residents and devotees will perform evening service and sing devotional songs.
Every Friday morning from 5-6am, a special early morning ceremony takes place, and in the evenings, half the town squeezes into the temple room for kirtan – congregational chanting and singing -. On Sunday mornings, a vedic fire ceremony takes place.
Every Wednesday afternoon, volunteers cook a specially prepared meal that is then distributed for free on the high street of Glastonbury.

The ashram houses four residents, who take over responsibilities for looking after guests, keeping the space clean and tidy, cooking meals, running the b&b, performing the spiritual ceremonies, and so on.

A lot of people from the town volunteer in different roles, dedicating their time and energy to the center.

One or two volunteers, or Karma Yogis, help out with tasks around the house in exchange for cheap lodging and food.

The ashram offers a wide variety of accommodation. From two simple tents on the back terrace, through various rooms in the main house, to a yurt and shared bunk bed cabin in the garden, there is something for every guest.

The large kitchen of the former coachhouse is the center of social activity throughout the day. Here, guests and helpers mingle over cups of tea, plates of food, or card readings and books. Everybody meets here for a healthy breakfast of superfood smoothies and fruit and cereals after morning practise. A good way of checking in with everybody who will be present throughout the day.

Just as much as the day has a clear start with the ringing of the temple bell at 7am, it comes to a formal end with the locking of the kitchen door at 10pm, ushering people to their rooms and to their beds, or quiet time.

For a karma yogi, the morning practise is compulsory, as they are expected to experience the bhakti yoga practise.
After breakfast, at 9.15 am, all volunteers and residents on shift that day will meet up. After a brief round of sharing about everyone’s state of mind, the practicalities are discussed, and a day of ashram duties begins. Mornings are dedicated to cleaning and making up vacated rooms, cleaning bathrooms, temple, and hallway. After lunch preparation, shifts are changed, and people working in the afternoon will take care of laundry, the garden, caring for flowers throughout the house, and general deep cleaning.
Lunch is served at 1.30, after it has been carefully prepared by the Karma Yogis under the guidance of a resident in charge, and then offered to the deities. Food adheres to religious and ajurvedic principles, which, in addition to being vegan, avoids coffee, tea, garlic, all types of onion, and mushrooms.

Which does not mean boring cuisine! Sometimes, for special celebrations, there are even cakes!

On sunny days, the big coach door windows of the kitchen are open and expand the social space into the spacious courtyard. People like to sit in the sun for their meals, reading, meditation, or just for a chat.

The group of people that are present at the ashram might seem to change often, but it is surprising how quickly one gets close, and starts to feel as part of a tightly knit community. As always when people live and work closely together, not every moment is easy and full of love and understanding. But all in all, people stick together. In the end, we all have one thing in common: We care for this place, and the community it has created. We want to offer our service to this ideal of devotional living.
And we all love a good celebration!

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The Glasgow and Scotland list – Not to forget

It’s a tradition. Whenever there’s a move to a new place, I make a list of things I don’t want to forget about the home that I am leaving.

(Here’s the list about my time in France, and here’s Switzerland)

So here’s the list of things I’ll never forget about Scotland and Glasgow:

Friends. Always. The people are what makes a place, and I have met some of the best during our time in Scotland! <3


The view from our bay window. It’s what every single visitor in our flat complimented, and it’s the one thing I definitely felt grateful for every day.


– The sounds of the park. People talking, kids screaming, dogs barking, seagulls screeching, the sound of the skateboards on the ramps.

Cider. I don’t like beer, but pubs are a must in the UK. Luckily, there’s a cider for every taste and I will forever remember the good company that I enjoyed them in.

Edgar. If you don’t know Edgar by now, you’ve missed out. Our neighbour’s burly tomcat was the king of the neighbourhood, and always in need of cuddles.


The Smell of roasting barley. For a long time, I was just mildly bewildered by the weird, rooty smell that sometimes seemed to waft through the city. It took me almost half a year until I grew conscious and curious enough of it to ask someone, and find out that the local breweries all had their roasting days – and you would always know when.

Pubs. A pub is the British people’s public livingroom. Pubs are for everyone, they are literally “public houses”, and the British claim them with all their heart and soul. Wether it’s for pick-me-ups during a long week, Friday evening drinks, a rainy Saturday afternoon, or the quiz on a Sunday evening: The pub is the place where you can meet all your friends, hang out, bitch, have a good time, and not worry about cleaning up afterwards.


Parks. Just as the pub is a British person’s public livingroom, so is the park their public backyard. This is where everyone and their dogs go for fresh air, an evening stroll, a morning run, football with the kids, or a natter with their neighbours. It’s hard to describe the friendly and empowering feeling that these spaces claimed by the people invoke, but I sure am gonna miss it.

“Hen”. – “There you are, hen.” “Anything else fer ya tadee hen?” “Haw’r’ya doin’ tadee hen?”- Get over it. Glasgow ladies call other ladies “hen.” It doesn’t matter if you’re younger or older than her, if she’s serving you at the corner store, cutting your hair, serving your beer, or a student in the same dance class: Shamelessly, and classelessly, you will be her “hen”. Better enjoy it!


Brother Kelvin. We lived in walking distance to the Clyde during our first few months in Glasgow. Big, lazy, oily old Clyde. What a difference to the Kelvin: Running, jumping, gurgling, blabbing through the park all day long, busy as anything.

Indian food: Another thing the UK does better than anywhere else I’ve been before.

- Cones. It started as a silly prank on this statue, and now the Weegies (Glaswegian folk) see it as some kind of sport to try and put traffic cones on anything, especially when it’s high up. You just have to like them, silly old fools that they are.

Driving on the left: It took a little bit of getting used to, but it quite grew on me, as did the whole non-chalant British style of driving.

The Three Judges: Although I’ve got pubs on this list already, our local corner dig deserves a special mention. If it weren’t for their weekly changing craft beer and cider selection, it would be nothing but a dingy old man’s dive. But hey, it’s the inside of the glass that counts.

Bagpipes. One of the things I wasn’t prepared for was just how unashamedly stereotypical Scotland actually is. I still had to laugh every time when at some point during my day, I could hear a random bagpipe recital. Which, believe me or not, happens often!



The great outdoors. I’m not sure if I will ever go anywhere as beautiful as Scotland. Our outdoor adventures were numerous, but not numerous enough. There is always more to be seen, further to be walked, higher to be climbed. Thinking that I will probably never pitch a tent in the highlands again makes my eyes a bit watery. (Also, I have never seen such frequent, breathtaking rainbows anywhere!)



Adventures in life. It’s been an eventful two years. Apart from hiking, camping, pubs and parks, there were spoon carving, outdoor birthday parties, yoga teaching, race running… oh, yes, and getting engaged (and subsequently, married, but not really.)

- Haggis: Feasts and elaborate cooking shenanegans were no rarity during our time with mostly hungry and culinary open minded people. But of all these, what stands out most in my memory was celebrating the Scottish national holiday (Burn’s night) with big haggis feasts. And if you haven’t tried one, you totally should.

Also: Midges, bogs, dickbutts, jellyfish, peatfires, fried marsbars, lawnbowling, free museums, hail storms, bonfire night, aurora hunting, incomprehensible locals, sweet neighbours, seagulls, binshoots, kangarooh people, and all the other wonderful things I forgot, but will never really forget.

 

 

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Tales from the road

Whilst my last update was all about the packing inferred existencialist angst in our household, this post already reaches you from the first stages of The Life After Glasgow.

Two strange men came into our house one morning, packed up all our belongings into boxes, and then made away with the whole lot.

I must say that I felt a lot better once the shipping had happened… it was something I felt most nervous about.

We spent a couple of days scrubbing and cleaning our flat to PROFESSIONAL STANDARDS – as rigourously demanded by our letting agency.

Saying goodbye to everybody was hard. I think even though especially Trev went through some tough times in Scotland, the one thing we really can’t complain about is the people we met. They are hands down the awesomest bunch of friends ever and can never ever ever be replaced.

We headed down to London as our first stop, where we stayed with Tref’s parents. We got his mom’s car that she had lent to us last year all cleaned out and washed, caught up with his family, and Trev sorted through a lot of boxes once again, clearing out stuff that he had left behind in his parent’s house.


Then this morning we escorted him to the airport and now he’s off to the States, for real! He’s going to stay with his best friend in Boston for a week before moving to New Haven.

I’m tallying behind because I had a few reasons to spend a little more time in Europe. Firstly, on the 1st of April, I’m going to move into my beloved Shekinashram, spending the month of April in Glastonbury. At the beginning of May I plan to fly to Amsterdam to meet a friend I haven’t seen in ages, and then I’ll travel on to Switzerland to spend some quality time with my family before I leave for Connecticut.

It all feels like a bit much at the moment, and this morning I really felt like I just wanted to go with Trev and make sure he’s ok and we wouldn’t have to be without each other for such a long time again. But then I reminded myself that these are my holidays now, and life will probably get very busy once we get together in the US, so I’m determined to enjoy my last two months in Europe. That sounds a bit dramatic… it’s not like I’m never going to come back… but it feels like a bigger step than we have ever taken before, and so it’s exciting and very scary at the same time.

 

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Train of thoughts; moving thoughts

Moving… it’s always a bit scary, isn’t it? I mean, even if you’re just moving down the road, you need to make sure everything is packed ok, you worry about cleaning your old flat, you wonder if all your things are going to arrive alright… and you probably dread unpacking all your boxes.

Although so far, I’ve always thought moving was pretty fun. Maybe it’s because I never moved as a child, so when I started living in different places as an adult, it was a novel and exciting thing to me. I love the thrill of new beginnings, but also the chance that comes with endings. You get to sort through stuff, get rid of things you no longer need, etc. etc.

The two times that I moved to a different country were even more exciting. We drove down to France with a carload of boxes, a little bit nervous about border controls (which were non-existent because it’s the EU and people are lazy), but otherwise full of plans and hopes for the six months to come. I moved to scotland with a few suitcases more on a flight to Glasgow than usual, but that was all there was to it, for the beginning.

But this time, it all feels just a little bit different.

We still don’t have much stuff. True, it is a little bit more than it might have been in the past (I’m looking at you, yoga mats!), but there’s no furniture, no car, no breakable crockery to worry about.

But we’re shipping all of that stuff overseas, it will take months to arrive, and Trev had to fill in pages and pages of forms for insurance and customs.

We’re trying to make sure he has a place to stay when he arrives in a place we know nothing about, and we’re simultaneously trying to scout out more long term accommodations.

And everything is very far away and buerocracy and legal system are very, very different from what we know.

It’s probably not like moving to a country with a completely different culture, but if feels very much like it.

Realistically, we have done all of this before, and worse (when Trev arrived in Zurich he did not even know he wouldn’t have a place to stay at uni. He had to crash at a colleagues house that he had only just met that day and it took him about two months to find a decent flat).

Sometimes we ask ourselves: Are we just too grown-up and worry too much about nothing? Too attached to our things? Too set in our routines? Not adventurous enough anymore? What happened?

I think under it all, we are very excited. It is a dream come true to go and see the States. We want to move. We have big plans for the years ahead. We are also curious, enthusiastic, happy, and grateful.

It’s hard to keep in touch with that part of the deal though when a lot of grownup-ness is required for paper stuff, and you’re trying to be cautious and careful, and not let people get the better of you.

We must have grown a bit tired within our souls. We have made a lot of experiences and we are wary and don’t want to repeat any mistakes. We put pressure on ourselves. We stress.

We are hovering inbetween two worlds at the moment, it feels like we already said goodbye to our old home, and yet, progress is slow, and we can’t move on straight away. But maybe that’s a good thing, because it also means we get a lot of time to breathe, to catch up with what is important, to rest rest rest, for the big effort and the intense times to come.

 

 

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