Butterflies and Hurricanes

There is much, much, MUCH to be said and I really need to say it. My mind is going a mile an hour. (That’s really fast, according to Michael Scott, kapish?) 

So. Hi. How’ve you been? It’s been a whole season, hasn’t it? The last time I wrote here it was still spring. And now I see leaves already turning brown, and it’s doing something to my insides. 

Let me tell you where I am right now. I’m sitting in an old apartment building on one of the most popular streets in Düsseldorf in an area known as Little Tokyo. I’m surrounded by some of the best-smelling Asian restaurants, including a ramen place downstairs and a vegan one right outside. 

My AirBnb host is an old man. Quiet, sweet, reserved. The black and white pictures on his wall tell me he probably has a hundred fascinating stories to share. He offered to make me breakfast and coffee in the mornings. What is it about simple kind gestures from strangers that makes my heart melt? He has the cutest dog called Queeny. When I saw her bounding towards me, I couldn’t focus on the conversation. Her eyes are like beetles, her tail like a little rattle. After a warm exchange in German, he politely made himself scarce. 

Another fact that I’d like to point out: I’d never stay in an AirBnb with an old man in India. In this part of the world, it’s normal to trust people. It’s normal for women to travel alone. And his profile was filled with positive reviews (and many of them by solo women travellers). So despite my initial skepticism, I wanted to normalize believing most people are good, and not live with constant fear in my body. I’m so glad I followed that instinct. This is a million times better than staying in a hotel. There’s something sad and impersonal about being boxed into a hotel room. Here, I feel like I’m a part of the soul of the city.  

Now I’m alone in my room. It’s a pretty place, filled with memorabilia, knick-knacks and kitschy trinkets collected over generations. Old wine glasses, beer mugs, goblets and chalices, candle holders, bronze statues, porcelain dogs. It definitely feels like a woman has lived here. I wonder what happened to her. I wouldn’t dare ask. I’ll just keep to myself and listen to the stories this house is trying to tell me. 

Soft rays of sunlight are streaming in through giant glass windows, making the white lace curtains dance in the wind. I keep staring at it, hypnotized. I have plans to meet a friend tomorrow, and another one day after. Sitting here in this room, I’m finally allowing myself to feel happy. I think I needed this, especially after the recent turn of events. 

So it would seem like a fine Norwegian company has decided to take a chance on me. In other words, I found a job. I’m employed. I’m going back to work. 

No matter how I say this, it will not hit me for a long time. For eight months, I have lived with constant uncertainty and disappointment. Despite the support, the travels, the friendships and love I had through this time, I went into a long and cold depression. It felt like I fell down a hole that kept sinking deeper and deeper. And now, finally, I’m beginning to crawl out again. Gingerly. BUT. It’s okay. It’s okay to take some time. 

Now that I have the luxury of hindsight, I feel this phase was important for me. It made me question what I value in life, it made me spend extensive periods of time alone, and it got me closer to the truth of myself. It made me understand that the point of life is to not always know everything.

Do I wish I had spent more time relaxing than fretting? Yes. Do do I regret it? No, because that would be going against who I was at that point in time.

Through the dreary days, I still managed to show up for myself. I practised German, made new friends, travelled, joined a writing workshop, sat in a steam engine train, fed Scottish highland cows, started learning Hindustani vocals, spent time with my family, and most importantly, allowed people to show up for me and love me in their own unique ways. 

I’m so lucky I got to love myself, even (and especially) during trying times.

As I get ready to be a corporate baddie again, I’ll chew on this experience and re-learn how to relax. For now, I’ll enjoy the windows, the gentle breeze, the leaves browning around me, and just breathe. 

I’m excited for all the things I’m yet to become.

🌸