Category Archives: Inspiration

Spring in Zurich

Spring in Zurich is a festival of colours. A banquet of flowers. Green leaves begin sprouting everywhere in a myriad of hues. The air feels lighter all of a sudden. Warm and fluid. Caressing your skin. Growth is everywhere. In the earth, the trees, the lakes, the rain, the skies… Every living thing around you awakens in a rich carpet of scents and visual abundance.

Traveling in Norway for the First Time

During the last few months, I didn’t get out much except for short walks around the neighbourhood. Work was intense, and the weather was just too grey and wet for me to want to go on big excursions.

However, as soon as spring kicked off here and the days got longer, warmer, drier, and sunnier, I took a week off to go where it was still cold, grey, and wet: to the fjords of Norway.

What brought me there initially was a concert by Ludovico Einaudi I just didn’t want to miss. Then, I figured why not leave Oslo straight away and head to the area around Bergen to explore some of the far larger fjords in the west of Norway a bit.

It turned out to be an amazing trip. Each fjord I visited was more beautiful than the one before it. Especially the Naeroyfjord, with a ferry trip from Gudvangen to Flam, was absolutely, mesmerizingly beautiful and invigorating. Even more so since the sun came out for most of the day, bathing everything in a crystal clear light, enhancing the hues of white and blue all around me to an eerie brilliance.

It was my first time ever traveling to Norway or the European North in general, and I’ll most definitely be back. For hikes, road trips, and boat cruises around even more fjords. And to explore other northern countries as well.

In addition to the landscape which was almost unreal in its beauty, I loved the general atmosphere in Norway. There was a distinct politeness, calm, and relaxedness which felt like blessed relief. Time seemed to slow down and whatever stress I felt still lingering from the months of working before soon vanished without a trace. 

Everything seemed so easy, quiet, accessible, and open-minded. I never quite felt anything like it anywhere else during my abundant travels through many countries around the world. It was simply enchanting.

Suspended in Time

I’m on vacation! 2 1/2 weeks off work. Thankfully, as of this moment it still feels as if I’m suspended in time. I have all the time in the world.

In fact, this is my first vacation since beginning of 2019 that is without stress and anxiety. A vacation without existential angst… even though I’m still far from feeling steady ground under my feet again.

Nevertheless, I enjoy many a happy moment. My cat is a great teacher. He shows me how to stay in the Now. 

Because often, when I see my social media feed, I get quite depressed.

Every day, there is another “congratulate Blabla for starting a new position as Blabla for this and that show.” I read it, feel happy for my colleague, but also immediately feel this deep ache radiating all the way to my core. A kind of homesickness that is incredibly hard to shake. And to be entirely honest, possibly also hurt pride.

I need to be careful not to dwell on it too much. To not get overwhelmed by sitting on the bench. 

The thing is, I love working backstage, especially for circus shows. Yet, no matter how hard I’ve worked during my thus far 10 years in the business… I’ve always found it incredibly hard to get a foot in the door. I blame nepotism. So many times, my skillset and enthusiasm didn’t seem to matter when I applied for a job at a show. Managers would only hire people they already knew well…

These days, I am working in a corporate office. Admin work similar to what I am used to as a stage manager. The work is also just as fast paced and ever-changing. So that is good. Yet, I do miss being backstage running tracks in the evening. And I miss calling the show. 

I’ve adapted to so many things in my life already. Yet this time, the ache remains. It feels as if I’ve lost something forever and it will leave a void I somehow cannot quite fill with anything else. Because nothing compares to the almost electrifying vividness of bringing a show to life together. 

I am now stumped and quite a bit lost when it comes to figuring out where I’m headed with my life. I feel uprooted. Wanting to arrive somewhere yet not quite able to do so. Daily, I feel the ache of wanting to go backstage again to work my heart out for something burgeoning with creativity and soul. 

As for hurt pride… there is the exasperating fact that everything else I’ve ever put all my energy towards has worked out for me. Except working backstage and being able to build a successful career as a stage manager. Over the years, I have been great in helping others in the industry to kickstart their career. Yet, for myself, the backstage universe seems to remain strangely out of reach. 

Well, looking back over the last decade, I’ve had a good run of it, too. I worked for two amazing aquatic circus shows. One of them the largest one in the world at the time. I also got to work with a great international team on the first ever electric vehicle stunt show in the world. 

So, I did manage to squeeze more than just a foot in the door every now and then over the years. And I did my best to gather as much experience as I could while I was with each show. In my last job in the industry, I even finally called the show. Meaning, I ran the show from the control booth. It’s sort of like being the bridge between everything. Keeping people safe and the spectacle flowing. Much like being a conductor for a huge orchestra. Just that in this case it’s performer cues, light, sound, special effects, props, and all kinds of things coming together. It’s like creating the same perfect Mandala every night. The timing must be just right. But still, the show will never be exactly the same. 

Calling the show was something I had wanted to do for a long, long time. 

Now, I seem to be completely out of the loop. As if none of these experiences ever happened. Whereas most of my former colleagues are falling neatly back into place after the pandemic. Like human puzzle pieces in a re-activated live Tetris game.

I wonder if maybe being a stage manager is just not my door? But how can something that feels so deeply invigorating and seems to fit so well to my personality and skillset be the wrong door? Maybe there are things I just cannot grasp and understand yet.

Maybe answers will await further along the road.

For now, my old street cat JoJo reminds me to count our blessings and enjoy every precious moment. To trust that, somehow, the mystery of where we’re headed will be revealed over time.

We do have a roof over our head after being homeless for a good 1 1/2 years (well JoJo was homeless for a good decade or more). Plus, it’s not just any roof. We found a gorgeous little rooftop apartment with a terrace. Our place is flooded with light. Different hues of golden sunlight find their way through our windows over the course of each day.

And I have a job. That’s not to be taken for granted. 

It’s also good to have health insurance again. There are some aches and pains both JoJo and I have been struggling with that we can now take care of.

Most importantly, we are surrounded by a group of close friends whom I’ve known for decades. Many of them have always been there. No matter where I went. No matter for how long. And they’ve always accepted me for exactly who I am. We’ve grown in all kinds of different directions and yet have never grown apart.

So, JoJo and I are in a good place.

I’m relaxing into the flow as best as I can. 

The person inside me who wants to have a plan would love to know about some deeper meaning in all of this. Would love to know the destination we are headed towards. And would love for it all to instantaneously make sense and feel right.

Most likely, a few years from now it really will all make sense and I’ll know why everything had to happen the way it did. 

I know, it’s about the journey, not the destination. The adventurer within me appreciates that. The adventurer within is grateful for all the moments spent now in this current life situation, this current place. 

Mostly, I am incredibly grateful for and happy about every second I get to spend with little, old JoJo. 

Time together is always limited. I guess it is what makes the happy moments so incredibly, overwhelmingly precious. 

But in our case now, I am more aware than ever before of how limited time together is. No one knows JoJo’s age. He might be anything above 10 years old. And he has FIV. 

The time we have together. Friendship. Love. Supporting each other is more important than anything else. Be it human to human, or human to animal.

So, here we are, two close friends, cat and man, enjoying some last, golden autumn sunshine together.

Sunrise and Sunset

Another mountain lake and the, in this case, lucky occurrence of being woken up early by a busy road and construction site right next to where I had bunked for the night.

Lake Lucerne was majestic just after sunrise.

Crisp, cold air which demanded several layers of clothing. But each breath was invigorating. And nature’s color palette was a feast for the eyes. Soft edges at first. Then everything transformed, becoming crisper and clearer as the morning progressed.

As for the sunset… not bad… Not bad at all, either. Stood there with a glass of white wine in my hand, closing my eyes every so often to commit the magical moment to memory. Do you do that sometimes, too? Close your eyes when faced with something you never want to forget, so as to take a photograph with your soul? The eyelids become the shutters of your internal camera. And in that swift moment of closing your eyes, going inwards, you take a picture for eternity.

Precious Moments

My just recently adopted, old, toothless partner in crime is teaching me so much about life. About pausing every now and then to appreciate what we have instead of worrying about what we don’t have. About enjoying those almost imperceptible rays of sunshine. Most of all, he teaches me about love. I guess because we know our time together is limited and can end at any moment. The vet can’t really tell how old JoJo is. Anything between 12 and 15 years is possible, he thinks. And JoJo has FIV, the feline version of HIV. It can potentially fully break out at any moment and then he’ll only have a few months left. So, I am completely aware of each second spent with this incredibly beautiful soul. I am grateful we can make each other happy for however long that may be. While I hold him in my arms and he soothes me through his gentle presence, I learn to love and let go more deeply than ever before.

Twirling Mist and a Bright Sunny Day

While long hikes with a heavy backpack are out of the question at the moment (until I can take care of my hernias), I still enjoy the odd short one. This was a few days ago during a hike along the river Reuss in Kanton Aargau in Switzerland. 

An enchanting half day which began with mist floating and twirling above the ground. Then, as the sun pushed trough and the day grew brighter and warmer, the mist dissipated, leaving only the brilliant pre-spring banks of this beautiful river. My friend and I followed it for a few hours, at a gentle pace. Enjoying a landscape in which, for many hours, we were the only humans. 

Nothing better to clear the mind than letting feet and thoughts roam free for a bit.

Currently, I’m waiting for news from the Swiss immigration office and hope they’ll be so kind and give me a permit to stay and work. My overthinking mind is making up so many scenarios… The typical Kopfkino (head cinema) as we say here. Time soon again for a short break in searching and studying. To take another walk, soak in some sunshine, and relax.

What a Year

It was.
What a year… found myself completely homeless, unemployed, and penniless for the first time in my life. Embarked on the Oasis of the Seas in the Caribbean to manage one of the most beautiful aqua theatres in the world. Called my first high-risk acrobatics show. Went to Germany to help my dad during the 1st lockdown. Went on a long-distance hike from the mountains of Switzerland to the Mediterranean Sea. Discovered Montpellier. Learned a new language (work in progress). Found peace of mind again (also work in progress). Crossed paths with the most loving and gentle feline. And experienced incredible kindnesses from friends, old and new, around the world (thank you!!!).
I don’t think I have ever learned more in one year.
And I am profoundly grateful.

There Is Always A New Beginning

And… lockdown continues… Yesterday’s election results in the US were an unexpected boost. I was so happy to see democracy in action. People voting and making their voices and needs heard. So now, hopefully, finally, one of the largest countries on Earth won’t be governed by a raving narcissist anymore. I am usually not voicing my opinions on politics much. And, honestly, I don’t want to give a monster like Trump any space in my head… because we created him. We gave him way too much space in our collective heads as well as in all the media, even though he doesn’t deserve a second of our attention.

On a personal level, lockdown is proving hard for me yet again. I have too much time on my own again. I am alone with too much pain again. And, as I try to process an accumulation of trauma, I need to stay alert so as not to be consumed by it. As I work through it all, I realize I have spent way too much time throughout my life smiling, taking care of others, being the strong one, and being ok, whilst inside of me turmoil was raging.
In order to overcome, I need to have the courage to be vulnerable. I need to allow myself to have needs, too. And there has to be the honest admission: Yes, I can function. Yes, I am strong enough to weather through it all. But, no, I’m not ok. I will be some day. But, right at this moment, I’m not ok.

However, I am also lucky and so thankful for all the kindnesses I’m experiencing. Like my dad, who always has my back. Like my therapist, who knows I currently have no money and who has offered to do weekly sessions with me for free. “You need this right now. I’m worried about you. And I trust you. You can pay me when you’re back on your feet again. And I know you will be soon.” Her faith in me as well as coming to my aid means more than I will ever be able to express in words. Then there are my friends who embrace me as I am, and let me know they’re happy to have me in their lives. There is my current employer and friend who trusts me and always lets me know she values my input. There is my teacher at Alliance Francaise who writes me a worried message to see how I’m doing when I don’t show up for Zoom class. There is the entire team at Alliance Francaise, who are so helpful and human. They do and care far more for their students than their job description requires. And then there are my “neighbors”, the pigeon couple. They fly back into a little alcove across from my balcony every evening to cuddle with each other and spend the night together. The sight of them loving each other so deeply and authentically always warms my heart.

In the meantime, I’m not idle either and try as best as possible to give myself a kick in the butt every day. I don’t always succeed. But mostly I do. I aim to give myself a healthy structure. Every day, I go out for that one hour we’re allowed to, and walk. I write articles for TheatreArtLife. I photograph. And I try to pamper myself a bit whenever I have the chance. When I just need to collapse on the bed and do nothing at all, I let myself do that, too. I study French intensively. Zoom lessons, mountains of homework, plus additional grammar books, Duolingo, novels, and graphic novels. Thankfully, I stocked up on books just before lockdown. I miss the weekly book flea market underneath the sycamore trees, in the Esplanade Charles de Gaulles in Montpellier. And can’t wait for it to reopen. There is something magical in the way the light reflects off the sycamore leaves onto the literature beneath. There is a reflective calm as well, as people browse through the knowledge of the ages, as they enjoy the cover designs and imagine the worlds waiting behind those covers.

One such world I brought with me into lockdown: “Le Petit Prince.” I’m enjoying it all over again in French, the third language I’m reading it in.
“C’est une folie de haïr toutes les roses parce que une épine vous a piqué, d’abandonner tous les rêves parce que l’un d’entre eux ne s’est pas réalisé, de renoncer à toutes les tentatives parce qu’on a échoué… C‘est une folie de condamner toutes les amitiés parce qu’une d’elles vous a trahi, de ne croire plus en l’amour juste parce qu’un d’entre eux a été infidèle, de jeter toutes les chances d’être heureux juste parce que quelque chose n’est pas allé dans la bonne direction. Il y aura toujours une autre occasion, un autre ami, un autre amour, une force nouvelle. Pour chaque fin il y a toujours un nouveau départ.” So very true.

An Unobstructed View

Today marks 7 weeks in Montpellier. Time flies here. It’s gotten quite cold now, even for these Southern climes. Thus, I’m glad not to have to sleep in my tent at the moment. Yesterday, I had to move though. Because I changed my mind to stay longer, the other little rooftop apartment wasn’t available any more. But I got really lucky. The studio apartment next door is even cozier. The view over the rooftops is pretty much unobstructed giving me full access to those sunsets I can never get enough of. And: I have a washing machine!!!!!! Incredible! For the first time since July my clothes will be thoroughly clean. Handwashing just isn’t the same. I never thought I’d be this glad to see a washing machine 😆.

Other than that, I’m heading to a classical concert in the opera house now. So happy that, even though Covid restrictions have gotten stricter again, entertainment venues are still staying open and performances are commencing as planned. Well, they are doing matinees instead of evening performances now, because of the curfew. But it’s a perfect workaround… and classical music after breakfast has never hurt anyone 😉. What a privilege!

The rest of my day will be spent studying French like a madman. My progress is slow because I forgot far more vocabulary and grammar than I thought I had (well, I pretty much forgot all of it after 30 years, on top of having been a very lazy and unmotivated student back then). So, I am utilizing my classes, plus extra exercise books, Harry Potter, and Duolingo to bring myself up to speed. I am determined and WILL leave here speaking French! Good to have a goal, too. It gives me focus and hope. Everything is so uncertain and I still have no idea where these trails will lead me, but somehow it’ll all work out.

Stronger At The Broken Places

It is interesting to see what happens psychologically when you hike. When I left Switzerland in Juli, I was in the middle of healing from heartbreak and betrayal and also in the middle of trying to overcome all the practical and emotional challenges this subsequently led to. I figured, the best way to positively process my trauma as well as the added uncertainty brought on by Covid19 was to be on the move.

Nature has amazing power. During my hike, with few exceptions, it was just me and meadows and trees as far as the eye could see. I spent hours talking to myself in the forest. Having whole discussions with myself, in an attempt to process all that was twirling around inside my head. Sometimes I laughed, sometimes I screamed, sometimes I cried, and other times I was just quiet, letting it all flow through me and appreciating the beauty nature offered me along the trail.

Overall, hiking across Europe wasn’t a bad idea. Even though all the practical and emotional challenges I faced at the beginning of my journey are (for the most part) still as acute and present as they were in July.

Which is why now that I have decided to make a longer stop-over in Montpellier, the grief and pain has become harder to deal with. Being on the move helped to keep my mind occupied. During my 2 months of hiking, I was far too busy dealing with physical pain, toe problems, finding shelter for the night, finding food and water, finding the trail, etc. to get really depressed.

Now, even though I am busy with studying French, little side jobs, and writing articles for TheatreArtLife, everything is consuming me again. Since about a year now (or rather two), I’ve been in an emotional roller coaster much akin to the rising and falling of the tides. When I move to avoid these tides, I seem to be ok. Not moving now, I encounter the neap tides during which I feel mostly ok. At other times, spring tides come rolling in with the power of a tsunami, and I feel like I am drowning over and over again. Thankfully though, these particularly high tides seem to come at lesser frequencies. They are still there and they are still awful when they hit me, but I know I’ll somehow be able to keep my head above water.

In many ways, staying still in Montpellier turns out to be far more turbulent than being on the trail and hiking through unchartered territory. But I do realize staying was a good decision. Actually, it was the only sane decision. Because I can’t keep hiking to the end of my days to avoid the tides. I need to let them crash over me as they come and I need to work through them to be free, and to become my old, confident self again. Trauma is there to be overcome and to be conquered, not to be buried.

There is still a ways to go, but I now also have 3 more months in this beautiful haven of a town. I will do my best to take it all in stride (and at times, I’ll invariably fail). I’ll allow myself to stay still. To curl up in a little corner and lick my wounds, to breathe, to cry, and to take all the time I need to figure out what to do with my life from here on out since it feels as if I need to start completely from zero again.

But I know it’s not healthy to live only in my head. While I do not want to be on the trail every day just now, the emotional processing needs to be balanced by something. Thankfully, there is much to explore that is only minutes away from my flat. Just today, I ventured into the outside world and went on a wonderful walk after school to discover more of Montpellier’s street art. Over the next few weeks, I’ll surely continue getting to know my surroundings here even better. I’ll go and take walks on the beach which is only 30 minutes away. I’ll walk along the river Lez. I’ll venture into every single little alley in Montpellier’s old town. And I’ll keep going on excursions throughout the Occitanie region, too.

Then, in January, who knows. I might well continue my Wonderweg and keep hiking for a while longer until I find a job. And, hopefully, by that time I’ll be able to enjoy hiking for hundreds of kilometers much better, because my heart will have recovered a bit more and the tides won’t feel quite so high anymore. It is definitely easier to put one step in front of the other on dry land as opposed to trying to wade through the deep water of inner turmoil.

Is it a good sign, that I am dreaming of the Pyrenees, the South of Spain, the Strait of Gibraltar, and Portugal? Is it a good sign that I am savoring French delicacies and already looking forward to Paellas, Sangria, Chorizo and so many other foods I love? Is it a good sign that I care about how well my French is developing and that I am putting a lot of hard work and effort into it? Is it a good sign that I enjoy laughing with my classmates at the often outrageous mistakes we make? I think it is. I am still broken, but I am slowly mending and becoming stronger at the broken places. I will never be the same again. But I am slowly learning to love life again with all my heart.