TRANSPORT

My first ride on a motorbike… lets just say…was a total exercise in surrender. We were on back roads riding with short sleeves and no helmets, narrowly avoiding cows, wild dogs, pigs, children, not to mention various types of other vehicles. On choppy semi paved streets, the sound of random horns filling the air, every turn seemed a new jungle path. And with every moment I knew I was relinquishing control. I didn’t know where we were or where we were going. And there where no signs leading the way.

Riding behind my guide I realized I had 3 choices: hold him tightly, grab the handle behind me or raise my arms to the sky… I made certain to try all 3.

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GERTRUDE

In the middle of the night I became aware of just how much water I had consumed before bed. With the mosquito net surrounding my bed and the unfamiliar jungle noises filtering in from outside through the open windows, I tried to go back to sleep. But I soon realized that I couldn’t hold it till morning.

I crawled out from underneath my thin blanket and through the net, slipped on my slippers and wandered sleepily into the bathroom. I sat down and began to feel some blader relief until I heard a prominent thump just behind me. Just then a tiny tree frog, perhaps only 2 ½ inches long, had jumped onto the back of the toilet. I curtailed a little squeak that pulsed in my throat. "Just stay calm, its just a tiny frog." I tried again to relax. "Just complete this common daily ritual. Everything is ok." Then she jumped again- and so did I! I quickly pulled up my pjs and dove back under the perceived safety of my mosquito net.

In the morning when my friend Corame asked me how I slept, I told him about the tiny frog in the middle of the night:

“ A trip to Asia without animals would require a refund,” he said with a smile, “And what did you name your frog?”
After a deep breath and a bit of soul searching I replied:

“Gertrude. Her name is Gertrude.”

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COCONUT

I awoke this morning inside a coconut. A large thatch covered round hut complete with running water and a mosquito net surrounding the bed. The sound of the crashing waves just paces away coupled with the dancing light filtered through the palms that shown through the open door created a peaceful sort of trance that made me question not only my will but also my need to hurry anywhere.

Ever.

But my breakfast was waiting outside. Fresh fruits, musli, bread with honey and fresh hot chai. The watermelon juice a deep color of sienna the likes of which I had never seen. And as the sweet guitar music flows through the window, I believe I have spotted my hammock- the home of my hopeful afternoon nap.

I think Im going to like this “work”.

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THE ROAD TO GOA

The road to Goa was a long one.

When we finally arrived at the place where we would lay our heads for the night, a fellow traveler asked where I was coming from. I answered perhaps too completely- “Berlin by way of Los Angeles, my 30+hours of travel had included a flight from Berlin to London Luton, a bus ride to Victoria Station, a ride to Heathrow then a flight to Mombai. It was all followed by an epic taxi ride to the local airport, a flight to Goa, then an hour+journey by private car deep into the thought provoking jungle countryside until we finally reached a our destination.

A shower, a meal and a nice long sleep and I would be right as rain.

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You're Good to Goa!

An amazing opportunity arose while I was in LA. A friend of mine who is working on a large international project needed an editor for the English portions of a globally comprehensive website. He proposed that while the work could be done from the city via the internet, that it would be more fun to do it live and in person with him on the beaches of Goa India. It just so happens that I had moved out of my apartment before coming to LA and I was still technically unemployed. Jobless and homeless I had the time and the ability to go. And it just so happens that I speak pretty good English ;-)

After discovering in LA just how difficult it was to get a “rushed” visa on a holiday weekend,I felt a little panicked. After about an hour of anxiety, I remembered something really simple.. this wasn't my idea. And I realized that the flow of my life had brought this whole thing on and it was kinda silly to think it would abandon me now. I took a deep breath and felt strongly that Berlin would come through. And once I had that thought, I felt a lot of peace. I called my friend Patrick in Berlin and he called the embassy to find out what I needed. I would land in Berlin on Thursday and have only 2 business days to procure my visa for India.

I went to the embassy, all my documents in hand. The line was pretty short and in no time I was up to the front of the line.

I complimented the man behind the counter for handling things before me so quickly. I smiled and thanked him. He seemed to neither understand nor regard the compliment.

After he went through my paperwork it seemed that everything was in order. I had read online and Patrick had also called to inquire about the fees. When I saw that we were almost finished I reached for the 50 Euros I had in my wallet. "That will be 75 Euros please" said the man behind the counter....

Ummm....what? He explained that German passports were 50 Euros but that American passports were 75. “You come from a rich country, “ he said with a slight smile. I asked if they took cards. He said no. I asked if I could try to find an ATM and bring back cash- he said I would never make it in time. In that moment I made a wish…

Just then a woman nearby told me that she knew of an ATM not too far. Another man near to her asked me how much I needed. I told him and almost before I could finish he handed me 25 Euros. I smiled and turned back to the man at the counter. "Ive got it!"

Samudra (which means Ocean) and I went to Podstamer Platz to find an ATM and afterward I treated him to some coffee. He was on his way back to his home to India to spend 3-6 months. He had been living here in Berlin for the past 10 years with his family and they were going for a nice long vacation. "If you are ever need a place to stay in Calcutta or you need anything while you are in India, give me a call."

I picked up my visa today. I leave tomorrow...

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Changing States

Today I am leaving home to go home: LAX to Berlin.

And moving from one space to another can be tricky for lots of reasons. Travel can often be equal parts adventure and stress because that’s what you’re doing: changing states. Water to Ice. Liquid to Solid. Hot to Cold. And it’s rapid. I think that’s part of whats going on here in the airport. I’m watching how different people deal with this. And it applies to so many things- moving from one mindset, place, set of ideas into another. Just like any other change in life only faster. We do this in our worlds all the time as we grow but it can be downright painful. Change is uncomfortable. And everyone reacts in their own way. I think the trick is to to get really good at the fact that it is the only real constant.


I have had the gift of seeing so many loves on this trip. I got to look them in the eyes, put my arms around them, share our hearts and stories. And as I sit here in the airport terminal waiting to board my flight back to Berlin, I realize that there is no need to search the world for what is already mine.

I am loved.

But I am out there exploring now, experimenting with my life in order to meet myself. I am changing states regularly in order to become comfortable with change. I am pushing out my borders literally and figuratively in an effort, a flow, a longing to finally find a way to truly love myself.

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On the way to delay

On the way to Los Angeles this time I missed my connecting flight. I had been confused in the shuffle and had taken the shuttle to the wrong side of London Heathrow. But in the mean time, I met some lovely people...

John, the man who plans to sail the world in 2011. He told me that he wanted to pay off all his debts before going but that just the thought of it was really making his life worthwhile. After a few minutes of speaking he said that it was really nice to meet someone who didnt think he was crazy.

I met Damien the hippie kid with the fabulous dreads. I asked him how long it took to grow them out- he said 5 years. Originally from a small town in france he had just spent a year in Germany. I asked him where he lived- he said nowhere. I pointed out that actually meant he lives everywhere. He had visa trouble before but was now traveling to India to see his 8 month old son. His first child. He told me that being a father has changed everything.

I got to my new gate just in time for boarding, just in time to fly again. This time a little farther, a little faster, and perhaps a little higher. And as I sat in my seat, I realized that despite this obvious "mistake" on my part, nothing is ever wasted if I am present. I had a beautiful day on my way to delay.

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Something to Love

I did a funny thing last week.

Ive been frustrated about being unemployed. But its never that simple. I mean yea, Im a little scared when I realize that I only have 10 euros in my bank account. But my rent is payed through December and right now I have enough to eat. But thats not been the reason for the dark cloud over my head. Its that I wake up everyday with energy and hope and then somewhere between my first cup of coffee and checking my emails I realize that once again, I have nowhere to be. Nothing to further. Nothing that needs me. Everyone is talking about how hard the economy is and then to top it off, Im on the other side of the world, stacked with some very real employment disadvantages. Its a feeling of powerlessness.

So I flipped it.

I remember a few years ago in LA, I was unemployed for a bit. It was a weird time for me but I decided that while I was looking for jobs (there are only so many hours a day you can send out those online resumes before you start to go insane) I would volunteer my time. A simple equation: I have time- they need help. If Im not getting paid anyway, why not do something worthwhile?

I met the coolest people at the Los Angeles Mission. I worked there for a couple of weeks and really enjoyed myself. In the end, the main coordinator was leaving and she offered me her job. By that time, I had already secured a new job of my own. But it was nice to be asked.

But what I remember most is that it changed ME. Through helping, I was no longer powerless,useless or pointless anymore.

So last week I sent a few emails to some entrepenuer types I know. Some of my fabulously creative pals that on the regular seem to have too much on their plate. I asked if I could help totally free of charge.

Since then, I have been so busy. I wake up in the morning and feel a strong sense of purpose. And it was nice to learn that it wasnt about money or power or being able to control my destiny. Its about energy, effort and what Im here in this lovely space to do. Because in the end, we all need something to love.

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The Hunt

How does one maintain inspiration? I don't think its really natural to feel filled with a fire and passion for life 24/7. And if it is, it seems a lot of us are doing something wrong.

Everywhere I am, I am still with me. Thats the funny part about Berlin. Im stuck with myself. All my bad habits, self doubt and fears are here, with me, just manifesting in a new and exotic form. A change of pace can be invigorating and somewhat glamorous. It is sometimes vital. But now I just want direction. So, In a effort to turn the kaleidoscope upside down I have decided to do a couple things:

1) Find a reason to celebrate myself: to say "tadah!" aloud daily.
2) Choose some heros.

Trying to be open minded, I have shut off what I am truly drawn to. I have made myself moderately neutral and basically uninformed about most things I care about. Running around in some weird "should be doing" daze, I have been missing my life, spreading myself very thin between all the possibilities of my potential...

Its total bull.

I have been telling myself its OK for a long time not to get too deep into anything. I justify my decent into neutrality in order to become more understanding and therefore more understood. But in the mean time, I have been drifting further from myself. I dont have a favorite author, a favorite director, a favorite color. And its not about the choices because I know they will continually change. But its about the choosing them, giving myself the right and permission to love. Things. Concepts. People. And ultimately, myself.

And so right now, I need a job. I need an apartment. But most of all I need a hero.

Im on the hunt.

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My September

I spent the month of September in a virtual daze.

Zac planned a 4 week trip to Berlin to see me. A little piece of "home", "comfort", "familiarity." His flight arrived 30 minutes ahead of schedule at Tegel Airpot. The anticipation of finally seeing him after almost 6 months had kept me up all night and as I ran through the terminal (knowing I was late) I remember wondering if I were dreaming. His red beard and glowing smile caught my gaze and I thought to myself, "I know this guy!"
I took a deep breath.

We spent a bit of time in Berlin. With the jet lag and the fact that he really isnt much of a day person anyway, we didnt do much sight seeing. I introduced him to some of my friends, some of Berlin's restaurants and as many German beers as we could order. We flew to England for a week, rented a car and drove from Stansted to Hitchin to Aylesbury to London to Avebury and back again, visiting friends and having adventures, all on the wrong side of the road.
I closed my eyes.

When we got back it was crunch time. My visa extension was set to expire on Oct 1st as well as the lease for the place I had been living these past 3 months. The stress and general sleep depravation of the prior 3 weeks was a 1-2 punch I could have lived without. I was a mess. It was so good to see him and show him my beautiful city but I wasnt very present. It was as though all the anxiety that I had been holding onto finally collected enough momentum to emerge. I guess when you trust that someone will keep loving you in spite of your failings, its easier to let things out.
I exhaled.


So now he is back in the US. I am back in the swing of, well trying to figure out what it is exactly that I do here. I have some good ideas. I have some great friends. And Ive got a feeling that breakthrough must be on the way.

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Postage

Savannah and Sophie have been asking me to update my blog. And while techinically I am making good on that right now, I still do owe them a bit about what's been happening with me for the last month or so. Maybe something about my move, my trip to england, my visitor from the US. Something about that.Im happy to report that I am alive and I do promise to post something more comprehensive... very soon. In the mean time... how are you?

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The Dawn

They say it is always darkest before the dawn but I would like to add something to that. It is also coldest. Just before the sun comes up it is really dark and really cold. And if its been a while since you have seen a sunrise or you have had an especially long night, it can be hard to remember. Sometimes, just before dawn, it is hard to believe in the day.

I spent the month of August crying a lot. Spending time with friends. Searching my soul. Writing songs. And crying. I had made a resolution to experience the world more like a child and I got my wish. I wanted the wonder and the openness, the discovery of children. But I forgot that children are awkward and totally dependent upon those around them for support. I never considered that one of the reasons why children can be so petty (I remember it well in school) is because they are in such an ever changing space with life and themselves that it can cause erratic behavior. When you don't know what's next its easy to get scared and act strangely.



I think the point is that there was something really important for me to learn in this time. This really hard time. And its funny how once that thing came round and I was able to see it, meet it, sit down and have coffee with it- there has been a shift. Jobs are being offered, my good friend is coming for a month to visit, the heavens are seeming to open... but not until I heard it....

"I am Ok." And as I type this simple phrase the tears start to roll down my face. Im Ok. Not because I can do anything. Not because I can be anything. And when I am sad, frustrated, lonely, afraid- I have a right to it. I don't have to push it away and make everything positive. I am ok, just because I am.

There have been a cool combo of comments/conversations/ideas/moments that have helped this new level of self acceptance to crystalize for me. And the very effective catalysts of pain and uncertainty have driven the point home. But I feel like I just climbed a VERY steep hill. Cant wait to see whats on the other side of this ledge...

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Hit and Run

Everybody loves to be a VIP. Honestly, Im kinda a sucker for the "invite only" stuff. Add to that random occurrance, careful planning and some under ground "Berlin style" and you've got a little thing called Hit and Run Kino. This well scouted movie night that happens randomly throughout the year is created by a couple of psuedo famous ex club promoters. They choose a movie to screen and a very appropriate location in which to screen it. They then send out an email to a select few (theres that invite only thing) with a place to meet, a date and time. You meet there, pay 5 euros and are walked through the streets of Berlin like some kind of Pide Piper pub crawl to the "secret location" for movie viewing.

When we met at first, I was excited. Then after wandering on foot with this group for about 15 minutes, I thought - Ok, what the heck is this? I knew that the cost also included drinks and I kept thinking- there is no way Im drinking the Cool Aid!

We finally get to the location, its a school called Rutli which is known for having some of the most unruly students in Berlin. We walk across the campus into this abandoned old warehouse. Its dark and we are literally climbing through holes in the wall, one by one, to get from room to room. There are tables with beer and wine where we helped ourself to drinks (made sure to cork my own ;-) and then we wandered into another part and found some seats. The movie for the screening is a little flick called Class of 1984 and fortunately for me, it was in english.

Watching a movie about the worst school in America (at that time) inside the grounds of the worst school in Berlin (at this time), I realized some things never change. And while we do live worlds apart, different languages, customs, perspectives-good and bad are understood widely. As I cheered with the crowd at the end when the protagonist triumphed, I realized we aren't that different. Gotta love a little hit and run!

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When the Honeymoon is Over

Bridging the distance between a vacation and a life can be a strange road. And these last couple weeks have been that. Realizing fully that I just picked up and moved here. Its not just a trip or a phase or something to learn a little bit for a little while so I can just muscle through till its over. This is my life.

When I meet people here they ask me where Im from. When I tell them LA their next question is always, "how long is your vacation?"

I bought some head-kerchiefs the other day at one of the many cool open air markets that splatter the city on miscellaneous days of the week. After taking a bit of time to decide and chit chatting the decision with a friend, the man packed up my selections and said, "have a nice trip."

But this is not a trip. Its a life.

There are many questions inside of these statements. And perhaps the most confrontational among them is the one I hear loudest in my head, "do you really think you can handle this?" And the truth is that most days, I don't.

We have a little moth issue in our cupboard. So my roommate asked me to go to the store and buy some moth catcher strip things. She told me the brand name and the store. I did everything I was told. I brought them home and then realizing that I couldnt read the directions. I went online and did a product search, found the item and then used google translate. When it still made no sense, I decided to wait till she got home to use them.
This was hard.
I am a grown woman and to be unable to do very simple things for myself, yeah, sometimes it messes with me.

And there are a million wonderful things about this place. But somedays, I just have to remember that I don't have to have all the answers. I made a new years resolution to experience the world more like a child. I am living my wish. Im not charming or funny in German, Im just limited and shy. In fact most of the time, I don't really know what's going on. And in this fray, its easy to forget ones own personality. Its easy to get frustrated and often feel small.

But Ive got 3 important things on my side: 1) Berlin who I believe in my heart wants me here. 2) Understanding friends who give me alot of personal space to work my way through these changes. 3) You reading this, sending me good energy and strength through your support.

This makes me know, I can not fail.

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A question for you...

Sometimes life stands still. Sometimes you are void of ideas. Sometimes when people ask you, "so what's new?" you aren't really sure what to say. In fact sometimes you are angered by the question.
Has a lot happened these last few weeks?
yes.
Am I glad I celebrated 30 days of 30?
yes.
Do I have any idea how to explain how hard/upsetting it has been.
no.

I usually try not to write until I have something positive to say. Even my bad days/weeks I try to find a silver lining. Believe it or not the purpose of this whole thing is inspiration- for me and for you.
But the last few weeks have been hard. Really freaking hard. And I get to the end of these days with a question.
So right now, Im asking you..."why am I doing this again?"

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My Berlin

Soon after buying my new digital camera last year, I realized that it takes pretty decent video. So using the movie maker program on my computer (which I barely know how to use) and the random footage from my time here, I put together a little something. Minimal professionalism and lots of heart brings you this snapshot so far of My Berlin...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DWWW-lWnpsw

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Open to celebrate

So Im walking around my neighborhood on the 4th day of birthday and I walk past an apartment just as some guy is coming out of it. We notice each other and both nod. He then says something in german and I explain that I dont speak it. We walk a bit more. 

On the same pace on the same road, I realize that we are quite by accident walking together. He switches to english to ask me where I am from. We chit chat a bit until we reach the end of the street. " So now I am going this way, and you are going that way," he says, "may I call you sometime so we can walk again?" So I said "sure" and we exchanged phone numbers.

That night he calls me to see if I would like to grab some food. Hey why not- its day #4 of my birthday!? I met him at the restaurant called Yogi Haus. I had seen it while walking around my neighborhood and it looked like a cool little spot. He arrives, we talk, we eat, we laugh. He is African but his native language is French and after 16 years here he is also fluent in German. So when all of a sudden the waiter brings sparklers and champagne, my new friend sang happy birthday to me in 3 languages.

Birthday magic a la Berlin.

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The day I was born

The actual day of my birthday was a hoot! I woke up early to ride my new bike to breakfast. Home made and fabulous- complete with a deliciously smelly cheese they had just brought back from Italy, Marc and Bo got me started on a fabulous foot. 

Then, despite my fears, (not having ridden a bike in about a decade) I rode my bike 45 minutes to Prenzlauerberg to make my 11am Grinberg appointment with Rebecca  http://www.grinbergmethod.com/ge/

I had so much anxiety about that ride. I think that happens over time. When you have fallen just enough to remember how much it hurts, its so hard to set that aside and ride with reckless abandon again. But the freedom and strength that came from just doing it, from making myself forget the pain of skinned knees and elbows and just enjoying the ride was truly liberating. The wind in my hair, the peddles beneath my feet, I was 12 again, the world was mine and everything was possible.

 After a great session, I caught up with my friend Guido just before he was off to travel around Germany in his mobile home. On the small patch of fake grass he keeps on the top of his camper van, I layed on my back gazing at an endless sky. And I realized just how wonderful my life is. I remembered how often I forget. 

My beautiful Susannes made me dinner, complete with homemade birthday cake. I dont know if it was the gummy bears or the smiles on their faces. Maybe it was the talks about life and love and being a woman over 30, but it was exactly what I needed. 

I rode home in the dark. After midnight. On quiet city streets. And when I finally arrived back to my apartment, I realized that perhaps by accident, perhaps equal parts seeking and chance - somehow I am here. And in this moment, 

I am exactly where and who I need to be. 

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Pre bday wonder

On the first day of birthday my city gave to me:
A lovely massage compliments of my dear friend Lydia in the Virgin Islands
A beautiful new pink bike from my English easy twin Marc (making me more of an "official" Berliner)

(Mein Fahrrad ist rosa!)
A movie, good whiskey and some fabulous stories from my Irish pal John
Flowers and a funny card when I got home from it all from my sweet new German roomie Irina.
The birthday month stage has been set in grand style!

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Asking for it

When I was 16, my first job was at CPK and I met a woman who was exactly my mix. She looked like she could be my older sister. After talking a while we figured out that except for the year, we have the same birthday. Somehow we have kept in contact all these years.

I sent her a random email the other day to wish her a happy birthday. She replied warmly and said something I plan to keep. She wrote: "If I may pass on some life experience that I have obtained as a woman of a certain age (smile):  Ask the universe for what you desire and it shall provide it to you every time. Also, be absolutely truthful about who you are... even if it is only with yourself."

So I have been trying it out. I have asked to celebrate my birthday for the next 30 days. And everyday so far has been a new celebration. And when I cant think of a way to celebrate, one is brought to me...

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30 days of 30

I turn 30 tomorrow. Wow. When did THAT happen? I've been thinking for a while how best to deal with this. How to reckon. How to celebrate. And as weird as it is to be single, unemployed and in a foreign country on this day of my life... it also makes complete sense. There is something very intuitive about starting over now. Today. This year.

So I decided to celebrate 30 days of being 30. Starting on the eve of my birth. Because 30 years ago today, my parents were getting ready to bring a new life into this crazy world. They hadn't met me yet. They didn't know what my purpose in this world would be. But they knew I was coming. I still am.... so here goes....

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ArT

According to Wikipedia: Art is the process or product of deliberately arranging elements in a way that appeals to the senses or emotions.

Ok. This seems true enough. It then goes on to say a bunch more about the history, the origins, the categories of art, but at definition, I think I can agree.

I've been wrestling with my own defintion of art, since recently accepting that it is my job in the world to create it. But what is it really? And how does one know if its good or bad or even complete?

One of the best things about Berlin in the summer is that literally every weekend there is a different festival somewhere in the city. Its just part of life here- art, music, culture and the exhibition of it all as frequently as is humanly possible. We went to a festival called the 48 hours of Neukölln http://www.48-stunden-neukoelln.de/2009/en/index09.html

and it was wonderful.

My favorite part about it was that it made me question art as I know it. I realized that there isnt any more art going on here than I am used to in LA. It just feels more accepted in its fundemental form. As though it is judged in Berlin less on the collective perception of the quality of its execution and more on the personal impact of its intension. That means that its real, its raw, its random and more people seem to do it since there is minimal fear of being lynched. The freedom to just be, just do, just say something- anything- with less worry of whether or not its worthwhile. Seems like a great way to find your own voice.

It makes you ask yourself, "What moves me, and how can I pass that on?"

I used to judge art more harshly.
I had this sort of jaded thing in LA where I was fed up with what so many people called "art". The very heart of it seemed corrupted to me. And that perception sort of bled into everything. Commercialization seeped into every corner of what was meant to be personal and intimate in my mind and it made even honest attempts at art hard to endure and virtually impossible to accept or to truly experience.

But now I take one simple question with me to an exhibit... "Does it move me?"

And that doesn't make the art good or bad, just personally desirable or not. Thats why its relative, because you can only experience it from your own perspective. While art can have a collective impact, at core, it must be experienced as an individual.

I think that in the end, thats all that really matters.

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Beautiful Chaos

Im really enjoying the weather here. My first July in Berlin vacillates between sweltering heat, pouring rain and breezy chill in what feels like the blink of an eye. I told my friend Marion that I'm magic here and that sometimes I control the weather. So today, in the middle of a sunny afternoon, when the rain started to pour just about the time she wanted to go to lunch, she called to see if I was in a bad mood.

But Im not. And thats not what the rain is for. There are other things at play. Sometimes a break in the norm is needed to jolt your senses. Maybe a conversation needed to be derailed out there. Maybe without the rain that flower wasnt going to live through the heat of the day. Maybe something dirty needed washed away...

And rain comes and goes so quickly here so I never fear it. There will be more shine or showers, whichever is needed most, soon. That is simply the way it works. Finding peace within that truth, thats my job. So today, I am celebrating turbulent weather of all kinds because it keeps life interesting. And its the ability to notice it that makes us strong. What's your weather like today?

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Passing the Flame

Berlin has sent a lot of angels on this wild ride. One in particular, has been very instrumental so far in many facets of my adjustment here. And slowly but surely I am coming to a point where very soon it seems that my internal assuredness that I am "supposed" to be here may be equally matched by external circumstances that justify this belief.

The other day I had a real moment of gratitude in which I simply asked how it would be possible to repay this friend for all they have done to help me. He simply replied, "Pass it on."

And so this blog is not just a reporting of great things but a promise to someone in the future. This difficult adjustment period will soon be a thing of the past and I know I will be set up here in a new life that I love. And when that time comes, I too will be in a position to help someone else. And believe it or not its that thought, the second even more than the first, that spurs me on.

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Hot Water

I dont know if I have shared this before but I do some of my best thinking in hot water. Literally and perhaps figuratively as well. And although I have a true desire to be rugged, a camper, a tomboy, I need- actually NEED a hot bath every few days or my heart and body become overun by stress that my brain creates. Strange, but tested and true. So when I asked Berlin for the perfect place, a bathtub was undeniably at the top of my list. That and internet service in a safe neighborhood for 300 euros inclusive per month were my wish. And I got it all. I just forgot to ask for hot water...

Sometimes you have to build a fire. Literally and perhaps figuratively as well. Apparently there are still apartments in the world that dont have continuous hot water throughout the day, not enough to draw a hot bath anyway. I live in one of those. Ive been told by my friends here that this is NOT common. Assured this is not a normal state of being. Not in Berlin. Not in Germany. But its the way my old fashioned apartment is set up. And my other two roommates are cool with it. So I built a fire. And after feeding it for a second time, I was finally able to get enough hot water for an entire bath. And maybe because Im tired, or maybe because I felt like I earned it... it was a wonderful soak indeed!

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Symbols of Hope

Im going through alot of changes right now. And aside from the fact that I cannot read 3 quarters of the words on the street, I shop, I eat, I live my life as a fully functional Berliner... well, almost...

There are certain things I miss. Understanding what people are saying in a grocery store, in the bar, on the train. Someone asked me for directions the other day and all I could say was "Mein deutch ist nict gut." Wanting to help and not being able to. Wanting to say, "yes, I would like a receipt with that." Wanting to say, "Im really not interested in your sign." But alas, I am an outsider. A foreigner. An immigrant.

But just when I think Im crazy for moving someplace where I dont speak the language, Berlin sends me a sign. Walking down the street with my two Susannes, I found the lady liberty. Literally. A small 4 foot statue just sitting on the side of the road, broken and discarded. Realizing that one womans trash is another ones treasure, I picked her up, dusted her off and took her on the train with me. She is in my room now. A symbol. A monument. A little piece of my country to say, "hey, its all right, you are welcome here." My very own Ellis Island experience. And maybe its the struggle but I have to say that never in my life have I felt this free.

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Inspiration

I had an idea. I asked my LA friends, the ones I saw in my last few days there, to write me something to remember. One of them wrote, “Here’s to finding whatever it is we’re all looking for.”

And I sat with the question: What are we looking for?

Lots of people would answer this in lots of ways. But I think, at the heart of it, we are all looking for inspiration. For a reason to get up in the morning. For a reason to embrace being human.  For a reason to celebrate our lives. 

And inspiration comes in many forms. It can be as simple as the smile of a stranger and as complex as the vision of a lifelong dream. But I think the key is being available. The key is emptying yourself of all the bullshit that binds. It’s about letting go of all the lies that we have adopted throughout our journey that we use to explain why things don’t work, why things aren’t possible. Because they are just that. Lies. Because it’s all possible. And when you find yourself in a life in which you no longer recognize yourself, its very sane to make a change. I mean really, what could be more insane than fighting to stay in a life that you don’t love?

I woke up this morning at 5am as the sun came beaming through my still un-curtained window. And as tired as I was, I couldn’t curse the day. I was glad to be in it and glad to be alive. Here, in this day, in this time, in this city, I am truly inspired.

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Carnival of Cultures

It’s an excuse to celebrate diversity. 

It’s a way to joyfully illustraite how far we have come. 

It’s a weekend devoted to all the beautiful cultures that make the city of Berlin like no other. 

It’s a reason to dance in the streets!!

I just attended my first annual “Karneval der Kulturen 2009” 
http://www.karneval-berlin.de/de/english.175.html
 and it was an amazing way to be welcomed to my new home! 

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Revolution

Being in Los Angeles without a car is a strange experience. I have never dealt with this before a few days ago. I knew things were spread out, but this is ridiculous!The city isnt really set up for human interaction and the car thing is just a great example of this type of isolation. You leave your place, drive somewhere where you expect to see certain people, get back in your car and go back in your place. There are very few random interactions along the way other than traffic and possible bouts with road rage. Everything is totally planned and moderately stressful.

But lately I've been walking. We have these big beautiful sidewalks in Studio City. They generally remain empty while the streets remain full.

On Ventura Blvd. there is a small music store called Ventura Music. I must have driven by it a million times, but now it became my destination as it was the closest place I could think of to fix my guitar. I was warmly greeted by George, the old rocker/owner of the joint, all smiles and long hair. He said he could help me out right away. An hour later, I had discovered that he was a Greek man from Russia who had been living in the US for over 18 years. His wife of 30 years had helped him to open this shop to showcase, store and hopefully sell some of his vintage guitar collection. We talked about life and travel and love. And by the end of the conversation he told me that if I practiced hard and came back to his shop and "impressed him" with my skills, he would give me an antique that was worthy of my effort.

All this because I took the time. All this because I couldn't drive away. All this in LA.
And thats when I realized that revolution is not a place. Its not a time or a phase. Its an everyday occurrence. And it starts inside of each of us. 

Thats when I realized, the revolution, is me.

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Serendipity

Serendipitous moments are sometimes hard to come by. But one thing has been consistant here in Berlin: when I ask for something, with a pure heart and a clear intention, the answer comes expediently. My trip to London was no exception. Do you believe in random occurrence?

Some wonderful family friends of ours that I have known since I was 4, decided, at random, to fly my mother out to visit them for 2 weeks.  It just so happened to randomly be 3 weeks after I arrived in Berlin. A donor, who will remain nameless (thanks Varetta), randomly felt led to give money so I could come to see my mother. And it just so happened that our friends home was beautiful and exquisite, that my mother is English and had some touching time in her homeland, and that one of my first best friends who generally globe trots (their daughter Holly) and has spent most of the past few years in Africa, was in town and had the time to spend a day with me. Randomly. If you believe anything is ever really random.

So we had tea at the Luton Hoo, took a nice long stroll through the Bluebell Wood that only blooms 3 weeks out of the year and had lovely homemade meals and cocktails out on their patio by the pool. We had deep conversations and we laughed. And I learned a lot about my mom, my childhood and myself. I knew this trip to England was somehow going to tell me why I had come to Berlin.

On one of these days, sometime in the morning when the quiet sunlit patio was just calling my name, I took some paper out and sat down. I knew something was coming. A muse. A genius was on the way. And instead of letting it pass over me I opened my hands and my heart to catch it....

Why have I moved half way around the world? For What? For Whom? 

For love. For Berlin.

So what should I do?

Tell the story.

How?

A documentary style film.

What? That makes no sense. I dont even like documentaries! Im not a history buff. I know nothing of Germany... 

But its you. 

Who me? Really? Couldn't you find someone better for this, Berlin? I mean someone more experienced in this kind of thing?

The heart for it. The inspiration is there...

But...

Believe. 

And so here I am. The theme of the piece still emerging. The reality of this calling still hard to grasp. To be frank, its been a couple weeks now and my head is still spinning. But I have to say, its nice to have a purpose. Its nice to find a way to empty myself of expectation to the point of being filled, like this. And I know its right. Totally insane. But totally right. So, I must begin...

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