I still can’t get over these brilliant, azure blue skies here in the Occitanie region. I’m glad to be here for a few more days and, after that, am content to let my Wonderweg take me onto whatever trails lie ahead in 2021.
If things go at least halfway the way I’d like them to, then you’ll read about a mix of hiking journeys, relocations, and inward journeys over the course of the next few months.
Other than that, today is just a day and tomorrow is another day as far as I’m concerned… not a magical barrier we have reached after which everything will get better. I have no great expectations of 2021 and will just do the best I can with whatever challenges it’ll throw at me.
As a good friend of mine always says (right Matt), “It’s all an adventure!”
Two of my favorites: Croque Monsieur and Tarte de Framboises. Wherever I am in the world, when I see either one, I need to taste it. This morning, I found both in the bakery. Aaaaaand… that was breakfast sorted.
Today is a day of anxiety. Moderate. But, yes, I do have those, too.
As I walked around my neighborhood, I was (as every day since I arrived in Montpellier) baffled by the number of homeless people. Why are there so many? While I felt helpless faced with the sheer number of outstretched hands, it also put things in perspective and showed me how lucky I still am. Yes, I am currently homeless, too (and soon I’ll be completely broke). But, I am still able to rent a roof over my head for a little while. I’m still standing, I’m still hiking, and I do still have and see abundant hope and opportunities.
Whilst shopping for the weekend, I looked around, and became so aware of all the masks again. It has become normal for me now to put on shoes and mask before leaving the house. How quickly has our world changed. I miss seeing people’s faces. I miss being able to read their facial expressions. I miss being able to shake their hands, to be able to fist-bump them. And, more than anything, I miss hugs and kisses. We seem to become ever more remote from each other… The other day, I had a drink and an awesome conversation with one of my classmates. When we said goodnight in front of the pub, he gave me a spontaneous hug. How wonderful that was! And how rare. How can something that used to be so normal now have become so rare?
My sense of loneliness is excacerbated by my language problems. By not being able to express what I feel in French. I understand so much when people talk. I understand even more when I read. But, getting sentences out is like looking for pearls in a mountain of oyster shells. Only every twentieth shell seems to produce a word. I need to get better at finding more of those pearls. I know, I know, it’s all just about going out, meeting people, overcoming the awkwardness, and talking anyways. No matter how horrible my grammar currently still is.
I am also wondering what I’m doing. Hiking across Southern Europe, going to French school now, continuing the hike after. Sometimes, I fail at staying in the moment. I fall out of it. All of a sudden I am overcome with worries about where it all might lead, if anywhere at all?
Then, I sit myself down (to a Croque Monsieur and a Tarte de Framboise for example). And I tell myself, “You can’t let yourself be overcome by these worries. Yes, everything is uncertain right now. Yes, you don’t know when you’ll find a job. Yes, your money might run out soon. Yes, you are in the middle of a pandemic (and a 6-month hike) without a health insurance. But, you are on the right track. You are proactive. You are taking steps. You are learning. You are alive. Just keep on going. One step at a time. Cross those bridges when you get there. Don’t try to cross them all at once now. They haven’t even been built yet. And it’s ok to have bad days. You’re entitled to those, too.”
Sipping my coffee, I feel a bit better (or at least determined to not give up) already…
Long shadows after another almost sleepless night… thoughts… nightmares I’ve had for months… sadness… heartbreak… a bit of exhaustion… mosquitoes… and an owl which, I swear, was sitting somewhere right next to my ear…
Thankfully, I managed to set up my little camp close to a small and ice cold little mountain creek. That meant a cold and prickly footbath while eating crackers… last night, as well as this morning.
I walked through this enchanting green ocean of dancing grass when the first message reached me that Le Reve, a beautiful show, the beginning of an era, an amazing vision, literally a dream, is being closed down for good in Las Vegas. Another almost 300 of my colleagues and friends are losing their livelyhood for now, not knowing where to turn.
I wish the initiative my friends and I are trying to build was not still in its infancy. Step4Circus is something that needs to come about. A small, yet important contribution to create jobs, hope, and a positive step forward in our circus community. It’s still a work in progress… I’ll keep you updated on all further developments! https://step4circus.com/
Today, as every day, my heart goes out to all my colleagues in the performance arts, to cast and crew, my show family, who put so much passion, soul, and hard work into creating moments of magic. We will find a way. We will be back. What is humanity without storytelling and the collective experience of eloping into our imagination? The show must go on xxx
In Culoz, I saw this map of the French Jura trail. It was only then I realized I have just walked both the entire Swiss and French Jura Crest Trail (only that I started in Brugg, in the German part of Switzerland, not in Mandeure). Around 300 km, all-in-all, give or take. I am a bit proud of myself, I must admit ☺️
I also confirmed something I already knew: I am not a mountain person. As much as I admire the natural beauty all around me, I immediately felt so much happier when I was close to water again. Now, following the Rhone river, smelling the rich scent of river water, seeing the blue ribbon meander through valley after valley, I feel like I can breathe more easily.
To be honest, more than anything, I am looking forward to reaching the Mediterranean Sea. The ocean feels a bit like home.
I miss having a home.
Because, no matter how much I’m trying to stay in the moment and make the most of things, no matter how much I am enjoying this journey, I long to have a place to come home to again. A place to relax and just be. A place with friends, with surprise visits, laughter, BBQs, and kinship. A place with a job I love and am invested in. A place surrounded by ocean if possible… and maybe, if I’m lucky, even, one day again, a family in such a place…
Currently, I am a bit like a fish out of water. Instead of being surrounded by my usual abundance of ocean, I‘m immersed in green, rolling mountains, hills, meadows, forests, and fields. There is the odd lake of course. Nothing better than vibrant greens and blues going together.
I had finished my book Paralian hopeful, filled with a happiness and sense of home I had never before experienced. Life didn’t disappoint however and everything turned out different than I had dreamt and hoped. I had been through so much already, that I didn‘t quite expect life was going to punch me in the gut harder than ever before…
But it did, last year. Now, I am finding myself homeless at fifty with a tent and a backpack my only possessions. Good thing is, I have my resilience, hope, and positivity. I am starting over, still loving life, always learning, enjoying the moment as best I can, going with the flow… and hoping, somehow things will line up in whichever way they are supposed to.