Even though I have done it so often and relish the excitement of new beginnings, relocating is always difficult for me. This time around it’s more difficult than ever before. Over the last months, I’ve been maniacally busy tackling the bureaucracy on my side of the world for my wife and I. There was no time to think.

Now, with everything done, there is way too much time to think. I’ve arrived at my new home with ample time to rest and relax. Instead of being able to enjoy the moment, I rather feel lost and like tumbling down a pitch-black, miles-long rabbit hole. 

I know, I just got here. I need to trust the process and things will fall into place… but, my mind on worrier-speed is wondering, “What now?”

Over the last 3 years, I’ve built up a career as motivational speaker in Switzerland and parts of Europe. It was a role I grew into with all my heart. It felt good being there at the front, building bridges, promoting understanding, and sharing inspiring stories. Maybe my relocation will temporarily or permanently end this part of my author journey… Does it matter? Or will one door close while other doors and windows will open?

Life is an unpredictable adventure. I know and love that aspect of our existence. Yet, at the same time, I long for guarantees I know will never be forthcoming. So I find myself over-thinking and over-worrying here on my couch in the steaminess of Southeast Asia… with an exhausted head full of hopes, dreams, and aspirations.

Then, there is coming home to my beloved partner after 8 months of being apart. Getting to know each other anew. Trying hard to give her space while at the same time almost bursting with neediness. Finding growth and change, admiring who she has become, who she is still becoming… and aiming to realign our paths so there will continue to be room for our independence and personal development as well as for holding each others’ hands while ambling along life’s paths together. I am thinking of skipping ropes, dancing in the rain, running through puddles, and finding butterflies along wildly overgrown roads. Then, there is gazing into the distance together, knowing no matter how apocalyptic that sky might look at times, we can brave anything as long as we have each other.

I am taking deep breaths. Confused, scared, hoping, dreaming, and mostly feeling like a little boy in need of that loving hand reaching out… to envelop me in a warm embrace and tell me that – no matter what – things will be ok, because home is right here where my heart is. Home is here, where I belong.