Fernweh, is the word that has been missing in my life.

 

 

It strikes me as the opposite of homesick. It is a yearning for Somewhere Else; a somewhere that is more than a destination, more like an ineffable and nebulous state of longing for the Unknown.

Yet, I often feel an equally compelling and quite opposite desire to stay right where I am.

Perhaps there is another word that I have yet to discover, the word that even more perfectly describes that push-me-pull-you state that I so often find myself in; that place where more than anything I want to have a daily routine I can count on, while also harbouring a profound need to fling off every possible known comfort and ‘get out there’.

And you wonder why I meditate?

It seems to be one of the few ways I can firmly plant myself in the here and now. Blessedly, each day that I practise, takes me a little further into rooting myself in the moment and truly being where I am. Trust me when I tell you, that is a good and necessary thing.

Still, fernweh was part of a listing of some perfect German words that struck me as delicious and true.

 

 

Torschlusspanik is another good one. Though again, I need to qualify my definition. For me, it’s not so much a panic, as it is a very profound awareness that I’m on the downside slope of this hill called life.  And I’d also like to clarify that  it’s not about huge life goals but more of life as the goal itself.

I want to be alive. Period.

I am reminded of that goal now more than ever. In our ongoing efforts to edit and organize ourselves prior to our new Trailer Trash life, I have been sorting through some photos. In our bins, albums and boxes, I’m looking at so many images of family and friends, and far too many are dead.

I can’t begin to imagine what it must feel like to be really old. Old enough that you’ve outlived pretty much everyone. That doesn’t sound like much fun either.

Then again, maybe all this lassitude means I simply have a case of frühjahrsmüdigkeit.

 

 

 

You would think the arrival of spring would enliven the step, create some joy at all those bursting flowers. And truly, that’s definitely happened for me on some of our recent Vancouver perfect-blossomed blue-skied days.

But today is grey. The list of things to deal with is long, and I wonder, yet again, at our ridiculous need to archive our lives with so many images.

There is only one way to deal with any of this.

I’ll set the timer for thirty minutes. I will watch my mind skitter and flip and eventually settle.

After my meditation, I will go for a walk.

 

 

I will take the time to quite literally smell the flowers. I will practise gratitude, especially because, although I may be on that descending side of the hill, I am STILL on the damned hill.

On the right side of the grass to boot.

I am certain that this prescription of meditation, exercise and gratitude will remove the feeling of torschlusspanik for one more day.

Once again, I will remind myself that I only have to deal with things one minute at a time.

And for that? There is exactly the right amount of time.

Yes. There. Is.