happiness, joy that little things bring, memories, Munich II., my life, photos, september 2013, writing from the heart

Undeniable happiness.

Munich. Oktoberfest 2013

The night this photo was taken was one of utter and complete happiness. I feel joy so often, daily, but this happiness, this happiness was accompanied by no underlying anxieties or jumbled thoughts rolling around in my head like a bunch of marbles in the background. It was one of the rare moments in my life where I felt I was where I belonged.

Midway through the tent’s brass band rendition of “Bohemian Rhapsody,” –singing along at the top of our lungs, swaying back and forth with arms locked together–I could feel happiness that reached deep into my bones.

“This,” I thought, “is a happiness I will always remember. This is a moment that will change everything.”

And it did. It truly did.

So stumbling upon this photo last week on Facebook brought it all back.

But most of all, it immediately made me think of this post from the ever-so-enlightening Laura at Little Things and Curiosities...

“And then her heart changed, or at least she understood it; and the winter passed, and the sun shone upon her.” -J. R. R. Tolkien

Standard
life lesson, Munich II., september 2013, write it out

Moving onward and upward.

Munich. 9/10/2013

The past three months have been filled with lesson after lesson. I have become quite good at embracing disappointments (even the ones that devastate) and I’m beyond proud of how I have, in a way, gotten my Munich back. I have cooked nearly everyday and have run around Munich by myself and have felt apart of it. Had I not come back I fear I would have had a bitter view of Munich, only because of the way things were left when I left at the end of April.

I found an apartment all on my own (which is a feat in Munich) and managed to find (even more) friends I know I will cherish a lifetime.

Most notably, I have come back from a blow from which I was convinced I would never recover. (That makes that no.2 for 2013…)

But I have, and still am, recovering. Setting my pride aside is one of the biggest challenges I have faced. I white-knuckled giving that puppy up. I wrestled and wrangled and finally admitted defeat.

Some of my dreams have been delayed… they have shifted in shape. I am coming to terms with this revelation.

In the meantime, I will be heading back to the States at the end of this month. I am soaking up the last days of SingStar with my roommates and savoring the Bavarian way of life. After all, I’ve been here a year as of September 17 (minus two months back home).

My big brother and his wife will visit for a week so that I can share with them the beauty of this place that I will forever consider a home away from home.

Oh this life thing, it’s all about growing and acceptance. Of this I am sure.

(Also, I had a job interview for a job back in Kansas City! Fingers crossed!)






I want to get more comfortable being uncomfortable. I want to get more confident being uncertain. I don’t want to shrink back just because something isn’t easy. I want to push back, and make more room in the area between I can’t and I can.  Kristin Armstrong

I am learning every day to allow the space between where I am and where I want to be to inspire me and not terrify me. — Tracee Ellis Ross

Standard
adventures, Munich II., september 2013, summer 2013

Munich happenings. || Part two.

 [Munich. September 9, 2013.]

1. I get giddy (nerd-alert) having my main stop named after Johann Wolfgang von Goethe… having been a German Literature major and all. // 2. I can’t resist a dusty bookstores that have entire sections dedicated to Bavarian royal history. // 3. Rooftop gardens are surprisingly common around Munich. I was lucky enough to have drinks at the bar atop one of the University’s buildings. // 4. I love the patterns spotted around the city. I wish I knew more  about architecture (read: anything besides the knowledge I acquired in 10th grade Interior Designs class…). // 5. Oktoberfest is right around the corner and it’s all about finding the perfect Dirndl. I finally found “the one” and let me tell ya, it was an experience to say the least. More about that soon. 😉  // 6. The Sendlinger Tor + a sign for the lingerie boutique right outside the gates (that’s been in business since 1885).

Part I. here.

“Nothing can be compared to the new life that the discovery of another country provides for a thoughtful person. Although I am still the same I believe to have changed to the bones.” – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Italian Journey

Standard
Munich II., my life, september 2013, write it out

A simple stretch of sidewalk in Munich.

There’s a stretch of street that I walk daily to get to the U-Bahn or the grocery store or what have you, and it’s this stretch of street, right at this certain jut in the sidewalk, where ideas for blog posts always pop into my head. Maybe it’s coincidence, maybe it’s fate…or maybe, just maybe, there’s something special about this spot that does that to people.

I like to think the latter. I like to think that one day, long ago, someone was walking that exact route, and stepped on that exact spot, and the realized something life changing: like a secret ingredient for spaghetti sauce that made them millions; or perhaps that they should take up painting and now have works in museums all over the world; or they realized they were in love and, in that moment, decided they must tell the person whom they loved. It’s a silly, romanticized notion, this idea that a sidewalk could have the memories of the past imprinted onto it forever, imparting inspiration to all those who walk it. But who are we to be sure it’s not possible?

I will take a photo of the spot. Someday.

You see, I am not so good with cameras and upon getting mine out last week someone asked if I had ever heard of smartphones or newer cameras and I got upset because I did have an iPhone, and because I can’t afford anything better than this camera and I can’t afford to replace my beloved iPhone (r.i.p.).

Naturally–as it so often goes with anxiety and obsessing–I thought about how terrible it is that I can’t properly document these moments, this amazing city and how I haven’t Instagrammed in a month or so and how people probably roll their eyes when they see my shabby photos.

In order to put these thoughts to rest, as best one can when battling an OCD-riddled mind, I decided I will try and get my camera out a little more often to practice, and I will remind myself that this is my life.

I don’t have to prove it to anyone with photos or the like.

Plus, photography was not the gift I was blessed with.
I have my words.

———————————————————-

food for thought:

We can’t jump off bridges anymore because our iPhones will get ruined. We can’t take skinny dips in the ocean, because there’s no service on the beach and adventures aren’t real unless they’re on Instagram. Technology has doomed the spontaneity of adventure and we’re helping destroy it every time we Google, check-in, and hashtag.
— 
Jeremy Glass, We Can’t Get Lost Anymore
I hope you are all both understanding yet skeptical of this quote.  There is both good and bad that comes of social media, but you must decide what extent of sharing feels right for you and what brings you true happiness.  I must confess that I hope your phone does not dictate your life.  I hope that when you are out exploring and when you are out with friends, it stays in your pocket.  Just remember that the best moments can’t be captured by a status update, and that no one knowing about your most amazing experiences does not invalidate such moments.

Standard
cope, faith, life changes, life lesson, Munich II., my life, post-degree, summer 2013, write it out

The post that almost wasn’t.

[Munich. August 21, 2013.]


The time it takes to spill your guts–or perhaps the time it takes to summon the guts to tell your story–always differs from situation to situation. Either way, guts are involved and it’s messy and makes you feel like your showing everyone your “insides” while everyone else shows their best “outsides.” It’s taken me a while to spill these particular guts of mine because in a way, I’ve been hoping for a different ending to this particular situation.

And of course, I think it’s important to show the vulnerable parts of ourselves. But you surely knew that already. I write about it often.

My horoscope for this week from The Rumblr’s  Madame Clairevoyant (though it’s admittedly not based on much astrology, if any; and I am not a so much a believer of astrology; it’s my favorite horoscope):

Taurus: This is a week for talking all the time; it’s a week for telling your life and telling your secrets; it’s a week for spilling everything you’ve ever kept inside you. It’s a week for talking things through and talking things over and making yourself heard. It’s a week for letting your speech go a little wild, for letting your speech show you things you didn’t even think you knew. Don’t spend too much time alone this week, if you can. Spend your days out in the world, spend your days talking, spend your days singing.

 So here I am, getting a little wild. With my words.

I moved back to Munich at the beginning of July. Oh the hopes I had! My new job was everything I had wanted! I found a dreamy apartment with incredible roommates! Oh the greatness. Oh the hopes. Oh how high, high high I was flying.

And then the company had complications getting my visa so I sat around Munich, waiting for the phone to ring, eager to throw on my snazzy new digs and nude heals and finally get to start work. As always, the longer I waited the higher my hopes flew. By this time I suspect they were halfway between the Earth and Mars.

You know where this is going, don’t you? I knew you would.

Of course my company then, at the beginning of August, tells me they will need more time to try for a visa for me. So I should pack up and move back home. (As if I lived a mere 20 miles away, not halfway around the world, mind you.)

I don’t know what devastated me more: the fact that I would have to say goodbye to Munich once again, or the fact that my dream was in the palm of my hands, and it’s as though, finger by finger, it was pried from my grasp. The initial sobbing on the cool, hardwood floors was most likely because of my pride. My pride was bruised, and I felt as though I had been the butt of a huge joke. As the situation became more and more real to me, the more I realized that this wasn’t a bad dream, or that I hadn’t been the butt of a joke, but that this was my life, the more it hurt. The more I mourned for what was, what could have been. Trying to accept that this was somehow apart of my life for a reason and, at the moment, I have no idea why.

I do know that I’m trying to make the best of my time left in Munich. And I’m grateful I got to consult for such a great company for even just a short time. But I also know that my heart feels as though it’s been stomped on. My dreams have been yanked out from right underneath me and it’s a hurt you just can’t explain. It feels suspiciously like a breakup. And I don’t know how much more this battered heart of mine can take this year.

So, for now, I am applying for jobs back in the States, perhaps doing some more work for the company (but back home), keeping my head high, hoping that this will make sense eventually. In the meantime, it’s one of those things you take day-by-day. Enjoy the moments as they come.

And pray to God this year will start to look up soon.






“You have so many layers, that you can peel away a few, and everyone’s so shocked or impressed that you’re baring your soul, while to you it’s nothing, because you know you’ve twenty more layers to go.” -Craig Thompson

Standard
adventures, Munich II., photos, summer 2013

Munich happenings.

 [Munich. August 21, 2013.]

1. Doner Kebab flavored ice cream is not for me, but when someone offers you a taste, you must at least take a chance. // 2. Surfing in central Munich, what else? // 3. What I’d give to know where “L+T” are now; how their love story is unfolding. // 4. Watching the people watching the surfers is almost better than the actual surfers. // 5. Munich is full of love it seems. // 6. What a day.



“Your dream doesn’t have an expiration date. Take a deep breath and try again.”

Standard