Some of us know what it’s like
to be called boring for cancelling plans
to be tired to the bone, no matter how much sleep we get
to be tired of speaking
to be tired of listening
to want others to leave so we can get back to reading our book
(snuggled up with a blanket and a hot beverage)
to read the same line over and over again
to wait for our thoughts to shut up
to wait for our heart beats to calm down
to wait for our hands to stop shaking
to lock ourselves in the bathroom and have a decent cry
to be haunted by shame and regret
(sorry, so sorry, I wish I had but I didn’t)
to smile at the mirror and try to cheer ourselves up
to hug ourselves to sleep
to feel lonely when preparing dinner
to feel lonely in a crowd
to feel lonely with our friends
to be in flight mode to avoid calls and messages
to be a psycho for the regular ones
to be a drama queen for those who have it all figured out
to be “just a phase” for the past few years
to be proud of having gotten out of bed
to be proud of facing one day at a time
to be proud of trying over and over again
to be proud of how far we’ve come, despite it all
and other people don’t.
Note: This poem is inspired by Rita Ann Higgins’ poem, “Some People”, introduced in Kate Clanchy’s book “How to grow your own poem”.
breakfast in bed
crumbs ahead
breakfast at the table
strawberry bagel
breakfast in the shower
superpower
breakfast at work
spinach smirk
breakfast taking time
mindfulness prime
breakfast with you
long overdue!
desayuno en la cama
café volcado, mucho drama
desayuno en la mesa
tostada, huevo y miel de fresa
desayuno en la ducha
pura lucha
desayuno en el trabajo
evitar el ajo
desayuno con calma
iluminación de alma
desayuno contigo
sí, te digo
“Everything will go back to normal eventually, won’t it?”, she asks, pacing up and down.
“What if what you call normal isn’t normal, after all?”, he replies, the corner of his lips implying a smile.
“You must be joking.”
“I’m not.”
“Tell me then. What’s normal to you?”
“Being present is normal. Taking full responsibility for my life feels normal to me.”
“Normal? As in the norm?”, she wants to know.
“Normal, as in the way things should be”, he replies.
“But they’re not”, she states.
“They are. Things are exactly the way they are supposed to be”. His voice echoes in the room.
“But not as they used to be”, she completes.
“Exactly”, he states.
“Very well then”, she says, chewing her lower lip.
“That’s life, I guess”, he goes on.
“That’s life”, she sighs, turning her mobile phone into flight mode.
A woman longing for life
comes home.
She puts her winter coat on the table
and stretches, lifting her arms up high.
She puts down her keys,
thinking of the doors she’s yet to open.
She puts down a kiss,
her favourite chocolate.
She puts down the memories
of someone long gone.
She puts down the smell of the day.
The smell of a setting sun.
She puts all that on the table.
And the thought of a first sip of coffee
on a brand new day.
She puts her dreams on the table.
The stories and the poems.
It’s all on the table.
The cheese, the olives, the lentil soup.
Fresh sheets for the bed.
She puts all that on the table.
The table stands firmly.
The table stands strong.
Just as the woman
piling up her past,
her present,
and her future.
“Can I help you, signorina?”, the man asked as I was having a look around. “Yes, I’m looking for baci. Do you have baci?”, I said as our eyes met. “No, unfortunately we don’t have any Baci Perugina”, he answered with a smile. I thanked him and left the store.
Only then did it occur to me that my question had been somewhat ambiguous. Baci Perugina is an Italian chocolate brand whereas baci means kisses. What I was looking for was the chocolate. And because they didn’t have it in this store, I decided to try my luck at another Italian delicatessen I’d recently come across on one of my ramblings.
“Buongiorno!”, I was greeted by the gentleman in the next store. As I asked for baci, he led me to a counter right next to the check-out. They had both the small sized as well as the regular-sized package of baci. I opted for the larger of the two and had a stroll through the shop, admiring the extended meat and cheese selection and breathing in the smell of a home-made dish that was being prepared in the kitchen. As I looked through the shelves filled with olive jars, pasta and pesto, my gaze came upon a cookie brand named Abbracci, which translates into hugs. What goes better with kisses than hugs?, I asked myself and decided to take home both the hugs and the kisses.
When leaving the Italian delicatessen, I was in a holiday mood. There’s a Russian supermarket just around the corner, I thought. Let’s have a look there as well! The little market was almost empty and I took my time to walk through every single one of the brightly lit alleys. There were jars of jam, many different types of cookies and all sorts of sweet and savoury treats. A young man was quietly rearranging the shelves. An older one was asking for recommendations in the corner where the alcohol is sold. The humming of a Russian pop song accompanied the scene. I filled my red plastic basket with Russian chocolate and Polish sweets. When I turned to pay, I was amazed to find out the gentleman at the check-out only spoke Russian. We managed to communicate and I left with an even greater holiday spirit. Read more…
The person I have in
my mind,
that person’s smart,
that person’s kind.
That person’s certainly
not afraid,
that person’s honest,
that person’s straight.
That person knows how
to express,
that person’s feelings,
that person’s mess.
That person tackles
mountains high,
that person’s creative,
that person’s why.
That person’s happy
with who they are,
that person’s cheerful,
that person’s got far.
The person I have in
my mind,
that person’s smart,
that person’s kind.
I like to think of my life as a movie. Or a sitcom. With me as the main character and several fun-loving characters accompanying me on my daily adventures. Recently, my dear friend Lilia from The Writing Village suggested naming the days of the year in the manner of my all-time favourite sitcom Friends. You might remember that the naming of the episodes follows a regular pattern: “The One Where…” or “The One With…”. I love this idea and decided to acknowledge the many special moments I experienced throughout this last year by looking at them as part of the episodes that make up my life.
The following are some of my exceptional episodes from 2020:
- The One Where I see my childhood crush after 18 years.
- The One Where my friend Trixie prepares a hot water tub for me after a long exhausting day.
- The One Where I eat a potato with tomato sauce in hospital and it tastes like heaven.
- The One Where I see my dear Aida after 6 years and it seems like no time has passed at all.
- The One Where we take a trip to Krakow, Poland.
- The One Where my sister from another mister introduces me to her son.
- The One Where the one who taught me unconditional love gets married.
- The One Where I enjoy my first pizza of the year on the balcony.
- The One Where I plant flowers and make them last.
- The One Where there are hardly any tourists at the Brandenburg Gate.
- The One Where the friend who reads my mind reads tarot cards for me.
- The One Where I see the most beautiful rainbow from my balcony.
- The One Where my sister and I splash about in her in-laws’ pool.
- The One Where I sleep on the balcony enjoying a star-sprinkled summer sky.
- The One Where I join a band.
- The One Where I decide to quit my job.
- The One Where my cousin moves in for two weeks.
- The One Where he learns how to prepare lasagna.
- The One Where I celebrate my birthday with my family and we all eat cake.
- The One Where Aida and I start having virtual breakfasts.
- The One Where I celebrate the 8th aNaversary of this blog.
- The One Where I write a short story and then another one.
- The One Where I’m so deeply grateful for my wonderful friends who truly care about me.
- The One Where I tell my crush.
- The One Where Trixie and I celebrate our ten-year-anniversary having lunch in Poland.
- The One Where I spend a week with my sister in Hamburg.
- The One Where I’m officially in the third semester of my Master’s.
- The One Where I’m invited to a dinner party with social distance dancing in the kitchen.
- The One Where Trixie and I say goodbye to Tegel Airport.
- The One Where I participate in NaBloPoMo.
- The One Where I walk a lot.
- The One Where I meet a guy during lockdown and my friends call me a hero.
- The One Where the yang to my yin and I celebrate our five-year-anniversary over the phone.
- The One Where I write haikus because they comfort me.
- The One Where I re-watch Friends.
- The One Where I understand I can freeze circumstances by writing them down.
[I could go on and on…]
Looking back at one year ago from today, I realize how much I’ve grown on so many different levels. I’m in awe with the strength and vulnerability I’ve had as trustworthy companions within myself. At the same time, I’ve been lucky to experience so much love and support from others. This is also “The One Where I say Thank You to everyone out there who’s been part of my journey.” Here’s to a healthy and happy 2021!
How about YOU? Which episodes of 2020 would you like to remember?
Arguing is like dancing. We feel the rhythm, stay in sync with one another, eventually start sweating. I want to move away. You hold on to me. We take a few steps in your direction. You lead me. Then there’s a twist. I turn around on the tip of my heels. My hair flings towards your face. It almost hits you. Your gaze follows my back all while you hold on to my index finger. You follow my step, the rhythm leading you. We take a few steps in my direction. I lead you. Then I turn around. Look straight into your eyes. You’re smiling. My expression remains grave. I step to the right. You mirror me. I step to the left. Your gaze and pace follow me. You grab my hip. Pull me close towards you. Heart to heart – that’s how we dance. That’s how we argue.
