Author: Liljumper

I recently went to a bookshop again and bought five books. I felt quite extravagant and felt a renewed sense of excitement for reading.

There’s something so beautiful about the feel of a book that I will never be able to get with my kindle. I want to hold them and feel the weight of the words in my hands. I want to run my hands over the cover when I’m not paying attention. I want to bookmark and highlight words that touch my soul. I want to feel that feeling when you’re done with a book, and you close it, you sigh, and things feel right with the world. I like knowing it’s where it belongs, in my hand, no matter how old the books is. I like knowing I am where I am supposed to be, a book in hand.

I love knowing, with used books, that they have histories, past lovers, past admirers, past lives, past loves. They have been loved and touched. They are connecting me and their former selves. They will be different to me than they were to their previous owners. There will be new wrinkles, new folds, new lines. They will be new to me, no matter how old. I will read new things in their lines each time I stare at the print.

They remind me of friendship, they love me when I pick them up, they forgive me for being away so long and we jump right back to where we left off. We forgive each other, pick up where we left off, and part knowing that some friendships will just endure no matter what. They love me for me and they never ask for more than I am, more than I can give. Yet they challenge me, make me see things I have never seen. They change me. I am a different person when I put the book down, when I am done with the first chapter, the middle and the end. They don’t falter or waver, they always pick up the phone when I call, and they stay with me throughout it all. They are forgiving, they are loving and beautiful. They can make me cry and laugh. They will bear the marks of my tears on their pages forever. They will always bear a trace of myself, my past selves, of me on them.

They mean so much to me, they have changed my life so profoundly, and I love them for it. I would characterize my relationship with them as love. Because I love them for it. I love that they can only represent themselves, their words, but at the same time so much more. I love the feel of the pages, the smell of the ink and must, the sight of the bold letters on the creamy pages, the sound of pages turning and covers closing, the taste of apprehension wetting my tongue as I peel back the cover on my next adventure.

Let’s be real, there will, most certainly, most definitely another one of this.

Someone asked me the other day about the cultural differences I noticed in Germany. It took me a while really. I’ve spent a good deal of time here now, and the things that used to take me back are old news. I am used to a lot now. But I will try to look at things fresh and reflect on them here. I am going to attempt to do this for the first time today. First of many I am sure.

1) The shops are closed earlier and not open at all on Sunday

2) Refrigerators and freezers are smaller

3) Because of this, people usually go shopping more frequently and eat fresher foods

4) You put money into the super market, kind of like at the airport, for a shopping cart

5) Very few people walk over a red, no walking, signal (or less so than I am used to)

6) Going along with that, there seems to be a cultural trend where rules are respected or followed more

7) Trains leave on time, the ones I have taken, whether they get there five minutes early, or that moment

8) There are less coffee shops, and, perhaps I need to open my eyes more, less people who carry around travel mugs, for cold or hot drinks

9) Almost everyone can speak some degree of English

10) You need to bring your own bag to grocery shop and if you pack, since you pack your own items yourself and pay, you feel a  bit rushed by those behind you

(By the way, I’m not saying that these are hard and fast rules or traditions, these are my observations, wrong or flawed they may be. This is also the first time I’ve really lived in a city.)

11) Everyone says hello and goodbye in the elevator

12) There are a lot more bakeries

That’s all for now folks

I want to issue an apology for any grammatical and spelling mistakes I make. I am a horrible editor and, even though I try, there will be times I make a mistake. I am sorry. Please forgive me, when I read things over again, since I know what I want to say, I usually miss things. One could comment on it below, or just ignore it.

Yesterday I concluded my two week German program at the Institute. It was a learning experience in many ways. For the bare facts, it was every weekday for two weeks from 8:30-12:45. It’s not the worst I’ve done, I did an intensive course at school two summers ago which was three levels of German in maybe four months of a similar regimen. The pace was slower than I expected, but to each their own. I thought we spent some time on things that were quite easy, but that’s always the challenge with courses like this where the levels of the participants vary greatly. The teachers were so nice. I am usually not a very harsh judge of character though, especially of teachers. They have to be really rubbish for me to really dislike them. My two, I’ll get to that, were quite sweet and accommodating. So I’ll dive in with my concerns and reactions.

Placement Test: I thought the placement test was a bit rubbish. Just a bit I said. I felt that it placed a large emphasis on vocabulary learning. In Vienna I was at level B2, and I still feel that grammatically and theoretically I actually am at that level, due to my knowledge in the B1 course. I am aware that vocabulary is a huge part of language learning, and it’s quite important. But I also felt it was a mixed bag. You either know it or you don’t, and if you don’t, then you get placed lower, like I did. I think, in that aspect, any test that will test you straight off the gate on vocabulary like that is, if not a bit unfair, a chance game.  Especially since my texts were about the production of jeans, and one question mentioned the use of telegraphs and the word for the telegraph counter (which even after consulting one who might know, was unsure still). In that sense, I think unfair might be the correct word to use. I used to be much more upset, but it’s cooled off. I initially, based on placement test alone was in level A2.

What Not to Know: One of the things that both amused me, taught me, and a bit frustrated me, was the concept they kept referring to. There are important things to know and not so important ones. My teachers would say that there are essentials, present, perfect, etc and those that didn’t fall into, were not really worth mentioning. I know it’s an intensive course so time cuts must be made. It amused me because the constructions are difficult and I can understand why people would be hesitant to use them, the praeteritum of verbs, past subjunctive models, passive, past passive, the second future test, etc. And language evolves anyway, and, it seems to me, that these might be going out of fashion. So it amused me, because it’s true. It also taught me that they’re mostly right. You need a certain level to get around and why waste time memorizing these constructions if you don’t need to use them? I barely use past passive…or passive really in daily speech. And, as they said, there are tons of ways to get around them. It also frustrated me a bit though, because it seems to me it shuts off a door to a potential place of knowledge. I would like to know, grammatically, what is correct, even if it’s harder and complex. I would like to categorize myself as curious and I do enjoy seeing the complexity, even if it frustrates me sometimes.

Oh, towards the end of the week I was moved up into level B1 of the course after submitting a small text about how I learn best. At the time this was my best course of action because being in the A2 level wasn’t challenging enough at all. So I had endeavored to seek work that would both challenge me and take advantage of my resources. Based on my skill, and maybe what I said, I was moved up on Thursday. Which brings me, beautifully, to my next point.

Self-Reservations: I know I have a problem asking directly for what I want. I have a hard time voicing what I need and want. It might be partly because of fear for saying no, fear I won’t get it, and wanting to be self sufficient. I haven’t really decided yet, and if I do, it certainly warrants another post. But I felt really upset and frustrated at being in such a low level, but I was unable to ask to be moved up. I would get there and in front of her and then balk. I would ask myself, in a horrible moment of self doubt, why do you deserve this?(As I edit this, isn’t that the crux of every moment of self doubt? What makes you deserve this?) If you can’t say it, can’t justify to yourself, why should you be moved up? I felt that other people didn’t feel I was ready to move up or should be moved up, but, as one wise person pointed out to me lovingly, I was, again and probably always, my own worst enemy. I didn’t truly believe I was worthy or deserving of it. I felt I was really quite horrible and that perhaps that one test told me something I couldn’t admit to myself.

So I guess you might ask, now what? Well this experience has showed me that I think my skill is more than I feel, based on my knowledge with my peers in B1. I think it proves, as situations like this always do, that I need to figure out my own self so that I feel worthy enough to ask people what I want, what I need. It’s so hard for me, but it’s obviously important. I think being here might be a good first step for me to start.

As for “Now what?” in regards to German, I bought the next levels of the textbook series that I really enjoyed and plan, starting not today, to begin with them on my own. I know a lot of grammatical concepts, some may find useless, but now I need to work on listening and vocabulary and speaking…just not today. I have been sick this week, but also my mind is a bit tired and it needs a couple days of pure relaxation and let down.

I just wanted to give a tip about looking at the homepage, read the titles from left to right along the line, then move down to the next line and proceed left to right reading. It’s a bit confusing since there are no date and time stamps on each post, but that’s the best advice I have. Also on the recent posts, the most recent post will always show up at the top.

I think a large part of how I’ve been feeling is to sort out, as my title suggests rather vaguely, the first intention of me moving here. I have a ton of feelings associated with them. I’ll try to organize them so that anyone who doesn’t have my brain can understand them.

1) Fear. A ton of that. I have fear that my intentions might prove wrong, that I might be proved wrong, that the gamble I have made will fail, that, truly, anything can happen. Fear that mistakes I have made will come back up and stick up into my face. Fear that I have worked so hard, studied so hard, and if it doesn’t bear fruit, what does that make me? What does that make the people who have supported me? Who would I be?

2)Guilt. Because I have done so much, had the support of so many people, that I would never want to let down on purpose.

3) I’ve actually realized it’s just a whole load of fear and that’s basically it. How deceivingly simple.

So here are the questions I have stemming from fear:

1: If I have done this, moving here, primarily in the pursuit of love, big if (which, knowing the inside of my brain I haven’t sorted yet), what does that make me? Does it make me undetermined? Does it make me a risk taker? Does it make me a lovesick foolish romantic? Does it mean my career ambitions are over? Does it make me a push over, a door mat? What does my existence here look like if it is the case? Does it mean anything else I do that gets in the way is pointless?

2: If it isn’t, then what am I doing? I am certainly not fluent in German, nor am I working as hard as I did in school, or not nearly enough to be working towards that.

3: Am I worried to go outside, to experience because of the way that this future is not guaranteed to me? What would all this hope and desire and dreams mean if I can’t get them? If I can’t stay what would this have meant? To step out to the horizon, dreaming of what lies ahead, to only be jerked backwards? I know this one is rather silly, because what is actually guaranteed to us in life, but knowing so much that my future life is so in flux, so contingent on a university, on a person, on a dream, on an official, really makes me feel so helpless and out of control. And maybe that’s another thing I’m feeling, that, to an extent, I’m spinning out, flailing my featherless wings, trying to see where the ground is. Continuing with the bird metaphor I wonder…

Am I bird or a person or both? If I’m bird, person, other, where am I going? Am I meant to be on the ground? Where are my wings? How can I learn to fly? Do I even bother? Where am I, who am I, where am I going? Sometimes I feel like I’m walking along a tightrope not sure how far the fall is, if the weather will blow me over, feeling just so vulnerable and out of control, moving slowly forward because I can’t figure out how to turn around, walking in a fog where I can only see my next step, sure of the next moment, only sometimes.

4: Am I worried to put myself out there because if I fail what does that make me? More of a life question I think.

5: Am I staying here, tied to what I think I should be doing?

So so many questions. I guess this blog is turning more into a diary. Which I guess it should since I barely do anything really, so don’t actually have any events to blog about.

Am I harsher to myself?

I know that all these weird existential questions should prompt me towards a turning point and epiphany sort of moment where I say aha, it’s all better now. But I feel just off kilter, like I haven’t found something to right me up, like one of those turtles who gets stuck on his back rocking back and forth trying to get back on its feet. I want to be the one who puts me back on my feet, abruptly breaking the turtle metaphor because I’ve never stayed put long enough to see a turtle save itself. Every moment plods along, it will sweep me up, and I will change and think more, but I don’t know if it ever gets all better. Aren’t these questions quite large?

This has been a lot of thinking, can I be done for the day?

Having a bit of me time is a good thing. It gives you a chance to spend time with yourself, relax, be yourself with no one else around. It is a great thing.

I feel that I have gotten a bit of me time, a lot actually now. I don’t know, I don’t usually mind being on my own really. I enjoy reading, I enjoy listening to music, playing, doing yoga. I don’t know if just my current mood is affecting the time I spend together or what.

I think a lot of this has to do with my intentions. This is an incredibly hard topic for me to talk about. One, because I haven’t sorted it out completely in my own head and two, because it is always so much in flex. How you feel one moment can completely be different in the next. It can bounce from polar opposites. I am always hesitant to speak about things until they are settled and I know more about them, and, more so, more about the person I am when I have them. Am I vindictive? Am I spiteful? Am I a fool? Etc. But the more I think, the more I want to share, the more time I spend just in my own head, makes me realize that this is the moment to share.

There will never be a moment that I am completely sure of what I feel and who I am. That doesn’t make me a bad person, that doesn’t mean I don’t have my stuff sorted out, it makes me a person. Because who knows completely how they feel about something one moment and who they are in that moment with absolute certainty? The essence of life is change.

It’s incredibly hard for me to understand, and extremely hard to let go. When you feel this way you do a lot of listening, a lot of thinking, and a lot of time sitting alone with your own thoughts. I used to think, I am too busy to think about them, I have too much going on. And that’s not healthy either.

So while my alone time is lovey to do this, and this blog is lovely to write out some of this, my thoughts on paper, it is having an effect on me. When I feel sad or something is bothering me it is extremely hard, without deadlines and projects to work on, to work on German and to stay motivated.

And I realize that this blog post now has nothing to do with the title or my original intention. I guess that’s perfect because it is entitled intentions. And like my post describes, everything changes, even my own intentions.

As I was talking to my mom last night, I had a weird revelation.

I feel isolated and somewhat sad here recently.

I feel a multitude of feelings regarding that sentence, so much feels. So how do I feel? I feel a bit guilty, sad, lonely, and a bit stagnant. I know I’m just in the bottom of a rut now, but it still is the bottom (or maybe just the descent? although I hope not) blues. I feel as if I don’t know a lot of people here well, certainly not comparable to my friends from home (but that’s to be expected), I feel as if I can’t really go around confidently (perhaps a catch 22 cycle about how I feel and my skills in German) which is just contributing to me feeling really down and not willing to talk. Although I did get dressed, made up, and went around downstairs, and a bit outside. Progress is slow isn’t it?

I know awareness of this is supposed to make me change and motivate me to action and movement, but I also appreciate that everything is a journey and I don’t think I’m ready to do that yet.

I know that it will change, and like most things, this is a process, denial, depression, acceptance, change, etc. I know I will move forwards with it, just for today I would like to just be a bit, and not work on changing or progressing, just be how I feel.

This personal blog concept is still a little strange to me, but I’m working with it. I think one of the main things revolving around my mind in the past weeks has been the changes I have to go through. During my past relationship I gave up parts of myself, debateably most of them, in the pursuit of being someone worth of someone elses love. Which, as you might be able to imagine from it being a past relationship, didn’t work out. Not so much because I woke up and realized this wasn’t who I wanted to be, but because it wasn’t working out. I think I ultimately wish I could have woken up like that and thought, this isn’t who I should be, but I didn’t, because I think I had lost touch with myself. Anyway, having in a sense, given up things; my home, my friends, my family, familiarity in a sense, I wonder about many things.

First off, I wonder about my choice of words, “given up”. It seems so harsh and a bit untrue because I still have them. But I also wonder if I harbor a shred of resentment, possibly? (although it hurts a bit to admit this), at giving these things up in the pursuit of love and a future I really want. But I think the choice of words is more about coming to terms with the consequences of change. I think, somewhere I must have heard it, is that change is often spurred by pain. Because if you’re all la-di-da happy, then what incentive do you have to change? If you stay at home all day, what incentive do you have to leave? If you always stay, when will you leave? There is a degree of pain in change. Call it what it is. It is indeed a learning experience, but there are some that are indeed painful. But perhaps, as I hope to find, it is a cathartic cleansing type of pain, a necessity to growth. I’m not saying all growth must be painful, but there is a certain pain to leaving behind what you’ve known, being lonely, isolated, and forced to change.

And as I work through what I’m feeling, as I’m typing, I realize I don’t remember what the second thing was anymore.

I remember now, for a bit I felt that learning German was just another thing I was giving up. Because I write a lot, and read even more so, I felt that being able to communicate eloquently was something that was inherently me. I am proud of it, so “giving up” English, was in a sense, and still is, hard for me. I know you have to work in German and what not to get better, but there has to be a way to balance both. Maybe half and half I guess. I haven’t found it yet, but there has to be a way. Maybe then everything will all feel a bit more manageable.

I realize this is posted after the day, but I just set the site up and wanted to post what I had written, even though it is way past the fourth.

So if you know me really well, you will know I’m not terribly patriotic. I’m not anti-USA, I just don’t generally get so excited about the famous holidays for their intended purpose. I don’t go to an annual Fourth of July party, I don’t barbeque, I rarely participate like the majority of people. This year was an exception though. For some reason, an ocean away, I have found a sliver of my patriotic spirit. I wore red, white, and blue, obviously, and I organized a party. And for a few days when I didn’t think it would happen, I was really upset, and I was wondering why. I never had a party or celebrated before, so why all the upset now? Why, when I am in a country full of non-Americans, for the most part, do I feel so upset about not having a proper party? And then it kind of hit me when we were eating dinner. A friend asked us, potentially slightly jesting (but with good intentions I’m sure) to me and the rest of the group, what we liked about America the best. I was first and it made me think. I said something along the lines of, “I definitely don’t harbor a blind love for America (clearly paraphrasing since I have the memory of goldfish), but it is the only home I’ve got, the place I call home home for most of my life, and for that, I love it for it”. I hope I was more eloquent, although I highly doubt it. But it is true. I wrote about feeling as if I was keenly made to feel, in my own head, to be the outsider, and so it made me aware of what I was.

Despite my qualms and interesting history, I am American. It’s home, and it took me an ocean away to find out why I love it. It was different in Vienna because they made us feel we could attain Thanksgiving with the special dinner and I was with many students all missing our homes and turkeys. But yesterday it was just me, alone, being reminded of what I had left behind, feeling nostalgic. Which lead to me baking an apple crisp, close enough to a pie for me, and we made burgers. It was the best Fourth of July I have ever had, in Germany, and on the Third of July (I should mention this fact since I haven’t before now), because it was the most heartfelt and patriotic I think I’ve ever been. So today, while it is actually the Fourth, happy Fourth of July to everyone!

Thank you to everyone who helped me celebrate!