How time flies, moving away, reality vs planning

How time flies.

I remember this time last year.  Still living in Dublin, and making my plans moving to Berlin.  My time in Dublin was soon coming to an end (I could only technically work there for a maximum of 6 months). It was a complete whirlwind of going through being sick, starting new professional commitments and going through all the motions of moving to a new country.  I made friends and caught up with family, did not do as much travelling around Ireland as I had wanted to, very busy with a new job and studying for certificates. Dublin was still fairly cold and rainy. I didn’t have much expectations moving to Berlin, only that I expected to get really involved with a lot of tech events and soaking up the culture, history and language here.

My apartment in Berlin has those huge windows and my room has a balcony, so plenty of sunshine coming through.  The heater is still on (it was snowing a bit recently) but with the warmth and sunshine, I almost feel like I am back in Brisbane, Australia.  I’m looking at the array of items in my room.  The printer that I am planning to give away to a neighbour.  The various beauty, skin, hair products that I am planning to bunch up to a female friend and give away.  The pile of books in which I may only be able to take a few and give away or recycle the rest.  The plastic bag filled with various electronics and adapters from various regions – Canada, the UK, Australia, now European adapters.  The clothes that I’ll need to wash.  And so on.  Half of my mind is making off lists and things to do for the time being (and things that I can’t do and must delay) and the other half just wants to savor each day that I have left here.

I want to stay in Germany.  And I did plan to stay in Germany. In October, I decided that I’d go for a longer lease at this apartment and marked down which day I need to go to the Ausländerbehörde.  I just want to have more time – to settle in, go out and make new friends, practice the language even more.  But then, I looked at my planning board.  I looked at the map of Europe.  While my perspective and world has managed to pinpoint itself into this city, I though about all the other places that I could be in.  That I also want to fly home for a bit, back to Australia, since a week or two with family wasn’t enough.  There are some things that I want to do back home. See friends that I haven’t seen for many years (and probably won’t be seeing once I leave again).  And I still have a few more countries left to be able to live in as part of the WHV arrangement.  If I decided to reside here longer, then who knows if I am able to live in those countries?  And thus, planning has persisted.

And, here I am.  A part of me is sad at the act of leaving. Even if I am back in Australia for a few months and that I also have plans to move to Europe (France this time around) I still can’t shake off the feeling of potentially not being able to come back.  Like this feeling of being on quicksand, constantly, every day.  I really like those moments when it was just a normal type of day and feeling of being settled.