Not all who wander are lost.

Everyone has envied one or more of the friends in their life at some point during their years, for their better financial situation, relationship with their family, their partners, the places they go to on holiday and whatnot. I for one never was envious of people’s destinations. But the older you get, the view on life shifts without one even noticing it, maybe.

At the end of 2017, a friend of mine left Germany to spent one and a half years doing Work & Travel around New Zealand, and although I always had a soft spot for that beautiful country, I was happy for her, for getting that opportunity to find her place in life and, more importantly, herself. I got to spent some time with her again one and a half week ago when she was visiting her family here, and boy, did she find herself. That experience, that country…it changed her. She always had a bubbling personality, always had been someone easy to be around, and whose company you can’t help but love in your life. And I never thought it was possible to outdo that. I have never met anybody so happy, satisfied and confident in herself. So…glowing with a positivity that has no peer. With no worries about everyday life. And overall, so absolutely balanced as only someone can be who is happy within themselves, inside and out. When I saw this, and heard what she felt now in comparison to just 4 months ago, I felt like crying, so happy was I for her for finding her place in this world.

It was this positivity in and around her that I envy now, and that now makes my heart ache for the same experience. I envy the guts people like her have, and the risks they are willing to take to find true happiness and somewhere they belong. With no safety net around to catch them when they fall. What about a steady job? A house/flat/appartment that you always can go back to? A social security? Health insurance? Or basic stuff, like warm water, a cosy bed, food you know can stomach?

It’s because of these things that the wanderlust I’ve had for the past couple of years (and especially since one of my best friends took me to St. Abbs, Scotland, for my birthday last year) has worsened. I yearn for new places, yet I am hindering myself due to my fear of flying, or my financial situation. Everyone would say those are things you can get over with, if you just REALLY want them to change. And to some degree, I do agree. But in my head, I know that a life like my friend in New Zealand has now would never work for me. I am a safety person, I need assurance of a job that I will have, no matter what. I need an appartment which provides the basic needs a human has, in a clean and orderly environment. I need to know I can always go to a pharmacy or my doctor to get the various medications for my IBS, migraines, nausea and whatnot. I need the safe knowledge that when I wake up the next day, I know where I am going, that I do not need to worry about having to sleep on the street because I can’t afford a flat, or how to pay a doctor’s bill (worst case scenario).

The “live for the moment” thing by going abroad like said friend is something that I just feel would really help me, finding myself, being content with myself, because I’m confessing right here: I am not happy in myself and my life. I live everyday, I even have loads of good things happening to me, things I experience on my own or with friends, things that make life brighter. But you know when you sometimes feel like it’s just not enough, when you see how brave, content, and just fucking HAPPY some of your friends are? THAT. Sometimes, being happy for the good things that happen to people close to your heart is just not enough, and so hard. But you keep going. And admiring others for their courage, and wishing them nothing but true happiness in their journeys, even if you’re only ever the one at the window, waving.

But who knows – maybe some day, there will be a moment the switch in my brain is going to be flipped and boldness and courage to go out into the world, not knowing what is going to happen tomorrow, will be the only thing that matters, no matter the consequences. Maybe one day my fear of “not knowing” will be beaten by the bigger will to LIVE FULLY instead of just…functioning in society.

Dialogue In The Dark

While I was visiting my best friend in Hamburg this weekend, she came up with a new idea what we could do: “Dialogue In The Dark”. You ask – what is that?

Basically, it’s an exhibition, more like some kind of a tour, where you can see…nothing. You go through a couple of rooms that are pitch black, you don’t see anything at all, you can only rely on your smelling and hearing senses. A blind guide is walking you through all “exhibits”, asks you what you sense and feel, and you’re able to ask him/her questions about their job in these dark rooms, their life as blind or visually handicapped people.

I have to admit, at first I wasn’t sure if that was something for me. On the one hand, my best friend had told me about it (she had done the tour twice already), and the way she described it, it sounded really interesting; plunging into darkness to get a feeling how blind people cope in their every day life. On the other hand, when we were given our blindman’s sticks and the advise that when we couldn’t take the darkness anymore (we were a group of 8 people plus our guide, Mario), we would immediately be helped out of there…I felt a lump in my throat. I have never experienced seeing absolutely nothing, let alone being in complete darkness over a timeframe of 90 minutes with complete strangers. But I knew there was no going back once I held the stick in my hand.

And god, was I glad that I didn’t pull out there and then (which was maybe also because I had paid 19€ for he tour and I am not somebody to easily waste money).

It was one of the most interesting things I have ever done. Our guide – who was absolutely hilarious and had no inhibitions to make fun of being blind every now and then, – first made us all introduce ourselves, then we had to just listen to the sounds that were ahead of us. We slowly walked from room to room, including small bridges, a few small steps, round walls, a room full of different spices and smells and some kind of grocery store where real fruits and vegetables were on display (we had to guess what they were when we were able to get our hands on them). Plus, for a couple of minutes we were sat onto a small boat and our guide “sailed” us over to the other side, with a light breeze going around us, and after that, we rested in a room where a CD was played with a bit of music or just several sounds, like rain, or underwater/diving sounds, walking over a seashore, etc…

It was an amazing experience, and Mario, helped alot with that. He never failed to explain us everything, and he walked us through the darkness like we were the same – which, apparently, we were for these 90 minutes. One of the most remarkable things was the fact how insanely good his hearing is. There was one of these moments where we had to walk past him and he asked if everyone was there, saying their names when they went past him and through the next door. At one point, it was my turn, but before I said my name, I said something else to my best friend, and to my surprise, Mario went: “Tanja is there, too…” For a moment, I was almost speechless because he had recognized me purely because of my voice. Now I don’t know if his hearing is just stunningly developed or my voice is so weird it’s easy to remember – but it doesn’t matter. That moment impressed me a lot.

After the tour, we all went through the last door into a dark bar (funny, eh, considering that EVERYTHING during that tour was nothing but dark, ha-ha), and we got the chance for a face-to-face conversation (I am so not funny, I know) with Mario. He told us that he has been blind from birth on, and that he mostly does his grocery or clothes shopping with someone close to him, someone he trusts so they can tell him which is what and what color of clothes looks good on him or fits together with other colors. We were even told that there is a device that can tell you – simply when you hold it agains the fabric, – which color it has! It was weird to then think about that he had never ever seen ANY color at all, and it was interesting to ponder about how it would be if you had no idea at all about any color there is in the world  – something I just can’t imagine, to be honest. Not knowing about what red looks like, or blue, or the different kinds of red, like bordeaux or something…it’s just too much for me to even begin to realize.
Mario also told us that he had been a computer programmer for a long time and only quit the job because it didn’t go well with his long-distance-relationship. Overstimulation for me right there. I mean…you might think it’s not possible that you can programme anything on a computer when you’re blind, even if nowadays, there are ways to help with it, but I swear to you, he was serious. And I believed him. So did everyone else. It was mindblowing.

At the end of the tour/day, I can say: what an amazing experience. If anybody of you ever gets the opportunity to do a tour like that – do it, you won’t regret it. It was one of the most interesting things to slip into the role of a blind person, of someone who has to cope with their handicap 24/7, to get a feeling of how life could be.

Plus, it showed me once more how lucky I actually am. I am healthy, I can walk, I can hear, I can speak and I can see. I am so lucky. I do not even want to think about the possibility to be blind one day, simply because all my life I was able to see everything; my best friend and I agreed that it must be a lot easier for someone to be blind from birth than later, because then…well, let’s just say, for me, it is one of the most horrible things to know what the world looks like and then one day – everything’s pitch black. Just thinking about it and there is a shudder going through my entire body.

Now I have an even higher respect of blind people than I already did. What they are able to accomplish every day of their life – wow. Just wow.