I arrived in Berlin six months ago today. With the 29 minutes I have left of this day, I thought I’d reflect quickly and briefly on this milestone.
(I am all too aware of how long it has been since I have shared an update; every time I sit down to write, I end up on some tortuous, brambled path that only leads me further away from coherence and light. That said, the term is almost over, so I may soon have the space to wrestle those adventuring words into some ripe offering.)
A few brief reflections:
In Berlin, there are people everywhere, all the time. It’s not a crowded city by any means, but it is alive and thrumming in its own unhurried way. People go out and stay out and enjoy one another. Theatres, concerts, and coffee shops are usually full—and there’s almost always space for a few more.
I hear a handful of languages and a dozen different accents every day. The world is smaller and more complicated here.
I walk everywhere, all the time. I love walking. I love mass transit.
The birds are different and more colorful here.
I am learning to flag my Americanness for what it is (pun absolutely intended). (Whiteness, being the slippery, culturally-specific-but-also-universal devil that it is, is much trickier to see straight on, particularly outside of the US.) Maybe a better way of saying this is that, in spite of the fact that I am not the global citizen many of my classmates and fellow Berliners are, with a lifetime spent in multiple cultures and languages, I am beginning to develop a more multicultural, more global perspective. I was seeking, at least in my perspective if not in my cultural foundation, to transcend my Americanness—and I am grateful every day to be in a place that gives me that opportunity.
I am beginning to claim my physicality in ways I never have before. Early in the year, the first day we were asked to balance sticks on our hands, I fell immediately into a cold pool of shame I didn’t even know I had. I heard, almost immediately, in my own head, “other people can do this, but not you.” I well remember the regular humiliation of gym class in my childhood, and this felt exactly like that. I don’t think I knew that story was still living within me until that moment, and it shocked me. But I’ve kept practicing, and I’ve melted that particular voice—at least, about balancing sticks, and many of the other things we’re asked to do. I’m by no means the most physically able or expressive person in the class, but I’m ok, and I’m not afraid, anymore, to be physically curious, and playful, and expressive. It’s a complete joy, and I can’t wait for that confidence and ease to continue to grow, and I hope I get to keep it for the rest of my life.
Being in community is fucking hard.
Being away from so many people that I love—and who love me, and who know me, and who can love me back into myself when I get lost—is fucking hard.
6 responses to “Half a Year Here”
I love your observations and your emphatic honesty. How wonderful that you ‘melted” that negative voice and have moved into your body with more flexibility! Brava! No mean accomplishment! Thanks so much for sharing!!
Thank you, dear Sam! Hope you’re well!
Just got back from a couple weeks in Germany myself; it felt hard coming back to the US. Glad to hear you are adapting to it and appreciating it.
Oh, Richard, it warms my heart to know we were close. Any thoughts of making a move back here? Do let me know next time you’re here–it would be so good to see you in the flesh. In the meantime, stay strong and soft, as I know you will.
Dear Mili,
I’m so glad you wrote this post on this half-year anniversary. As always, your honesty about yourself and what this experience is bringing up in and for you is so refreshing to read. Your looking out and looking inward at the same time is enviable. I can usually accomplish one or the other but not both in tandem. You are mastering that skill so uncannily.
I can imagine Berlin as you describe it – complex and rich with cultural variety, not easy, but never boring or simplistic. I’m delighting in your description of coming into your physicality. That’s what you chose for yourself when you chose this path, and it has clearly paid off not only for your professional grounding but for your grounding yourself in the wider world and in your own body as well. I’m so glad that ugly voice from your school phys ed classes is finally stilled.
I’m very glad you are there and are happy to be there. I would not want you to be here right now. It’s not a good place to spend time. It feels grim with flashes of hope here and there. The angst is palpable in the air, at least to me. Much to do, and figuring out what the much must be is the hardest part. Some of us at least are managing to hold hands in this dark. I hope not too many get lost in it. I’m heartened by the most recent news out of Deutschland!
Thank you once again for your words and for your willingness to share your experience so forthrightly.
I love you more than I can possibly say, as you well know.
Mama
Thank you, Mama.
I’m so sorry things are so hard–I feel it and I carry at least some little corner of it even here.
It’s funny that you and so many Americans are heartened–80% of German residents are quite mortified! Perhaps if the US had a system with a little more diversity of choice, we could have seen the rising tide of rage and hatred and burn-it-all-down sooner and worked to stop it. Alas, that’s not the way it works. But, holding hands in the dark sounds like a great place to start. I love you!