People and things move on, and that is just the way of the world. Seasons transition into the next, minutes tick by at an inexhaustible pace, and the attention span of a person flits from one thing to another without so much as a second glance most of the time. It is naive to think that this natural progression from one thing to next just doesn’t occur, but for some reason we all fall into similar traps with it. I remember when I was a kid and I learned that the world wasn’t just what I was capable of seeing at that very moment. This very moment was when I discovered that, no, it’s not just me that animates this world, that other lives go on even if I don’t. I wanted to walk away from the television, and my show, in order to play outside; however, I wanted to finish the episode I was watching. My mom asked me why I was okay missing the show and I, as haughtily as any six year old can, told her that the show stopped because I turned the television off and stopped watching. Her response told me that time doesn’t stop, lives don’t pause, and events don’t freeze because of my involvement in them.
This is important. Late at night when I’m scrolling through Facebook and seeing all of my friends posting their pictures and memories, I have to remind myself that I chose to leave. I chose to leave knowing that everyone would still be moving forward, just as I’m moving forward with my life here in Germany. But still, even knowing this, I feel an odd sense of betrayal and a sting of hurt when I see my friend group posing together for a picture of someone’s life-event or sharing inside jokes on one another’s walls. The feeling, while seemingly unfounded, came as a bit of a surprise to me. I expected them to move forward. The people in my life in the States were living, sentient beings and are, last time I checked, still living, sentient beings even though I’m not in the States.
Life keeps going. The world still turns. This is a sobering thought.
There is comfort to be found in the fact that the people around me are going through the same thing. I’m not saying I take joy in that they are feeling this way, but an odd sense of camaraderie. Like, “Yeah, I’m kinda sad too. Let’s bond over it.”
Moving on from all of the mildly sad things to happier moments.
I swear, all Germany does is make me absolutely amazed at every available moment. This past weekend I went hiking with two friends. Three miles to the top, most of which were up-hill, that reminded me of just how out of shape I truly am at this point. Every time I looked to the side there was a new view to steal my breath away, reminding me again of why I chose Germany. This is going to sound terribly cheesy, but that Miley Cyrus song (and I’m talking about pre-twerk Miley) “The Climb” was totally appropriate here. The view on the way to out destination was just as mind blowing as the final one. I stood amongst the trees, my back just as straight, and looked over what had to be the the greenest green that I have ever seen. Then the burn returned to my legs and I wondered if I had ever done anything remotely athletic a day in my life.
At our destination we found something that made me immensely happy. Wind turbines. My obsession/fascination/adoration of these things seems to be never-ending and actually expanding day by day. My little group was able to walk right up to one, tough it, hear it, and read its output register. I was beyond amazed, probably more in the region of awe-struck. Here we had this giant marvel of green technology with massive spinning blades that made less sound than most wind. And was generating around 53 units of energy in very small amounts of time. This is a love affair that I’m pretty sure is going to last my whole life.
I’m going to try and bring one home.
