deutschland detox

our German forest (just outside our front door!), taken by our dear friend, Cara Yoder Matzen

It's Thanksgiving, and I have so much to be grateful for.

We've been home for almost three months now, and it's striking what sticks out as being different in the States.

When we got to Germany, we were blown away by the antiquated practices that didn't allow us to use credit cards and required us to fill out paperwork for the air we breathed (almost). People expected face-to-face meetings to get things done, and handwritten notes were the norm. Our fridge was so tiny, it made minibar fridges look spacious, and our kitchen had no oven and fit one person comfortably. So, we had to go grocery shopping every day or two, and we ate simply.

But we got used to life there and embraced the slowness and simplicity of it, and now, I'd say life in the US is easier and more convenient but not necessarily better. Yes, I spent three hours a day taking my daughter to and from school using the public bus, but I got to read a lot of books. And we didn't have a ton of friends or any family around, but we spent a lot of nice family time together. And most importantly, we had hardly any stuff, and our lives were really simple. We had a mostly white flat (with wood floors), and it felt more spacious and open than our current house, which is larger but cluttered with too much stuff.

Now, if I go to a regular grocery store, I'm overwhelmed by fifty different shampoo or cereal options. In Germany, there were usually a handful of choices, which offered enough variety for us. Consumerism is a LOT stronger here. Americans have more stuff, and we're encouraged to keep on buying more/newer/better of everything. (Hello, Black Friday and Cyber Monday and every other promotion to get us to buy more.) Which leads to more stuff. You see the problem.

In Germany, I basically wore jeans and a black shirt/sweater. I added color with scarves and bright socks hidden inside my black boots. I never had to think about clothes and got to have something in common with Barack Obama, Steve Jobs, and Mark Zuckerberg. Wearing the same "uniform" every day frees our brains from decision fatigue and allows us to think about potentially more important things than fashion.

Back at home, I am surrounded by decades of clothes and accessories, and it's not even 80-20. It's more like I wear 5% of what I have, and I've already donated a ton of it. I read Marie Kondo's books, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up and Spark Joy, and both were wonderful. The basic premise is that if you can let go of all of that clutter/STUFF that isn't serving you, you'll make peace with your past. Pretty powerful, no? She says it can take six months to truly clear out the old, so I'm comforted that I'm still "on schedule." (Type A? No, of course not...)

But the craziest change I'm discovering is that the German mentality rubbed off on me, and I find myself thinking and saying things that are laughably German. I carry groceries in my arms if I don't have too much and park a lot farther from my destination than I used to-- unthinkable for California's driving culture, but it feels normal now. My daughters and I now say "ow-ah" for a booboo or ouchie because that was how the Deutschies pronounced it. I wear the same things over and over again and ignore everything else. (Which means I should get rid of it. I know.) And we don't do as much. And even though we don't need to anymore, we're still grocery shopping twice a week.

So, our lives are simpler now, and we keep trying to simplify even further. It's made for a more peaceful existence, and I have Germany to thank for that.

We haven't been social partly because we've been trying to clear all the junk out of our house but also maybe partly because we're used to being just the four of us. This weekend, we worked on our house, my five-year-old started riding a pedal bike by herself, and that was about it. Oh, and we put up our first Christmas tree. We never bought one because we were never home for Christmas; we were always at one of our parents' homes. But living away from friends and family, we bought a little potted Christmas tree in Germany (the land of Christmas), and it was lovely. So, this year, we bought a full-sized Christmas tree to have at home, too. My daughters were ecstatic, and my partner and I love how cozy it makes our living room, too.

I used to always have fairy lights (aka: Christmas lights) up in my bedroom. I think I want to fill my house with them now! Except, wait, I'm trying to get rid of stuff... But Marie Kondo says we should fill our lives with things that bring us joy (and chuck the rest), so maybe I *can* have my fairy-light-filled house after all. (I just have to actually chuck the rest...)

a grief all modern humans share

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My beloved 10th grade English teacher, Mr. Krieckhaus, and I have been emailing recently about life, and he shared this excerpt from Francis Weller's The Wild Edge of Sorrow with me.

I'm lucky that I always have somewhere I can turn to expand my mind, and this really made me brain explode a bit. This is a grief that we humans share, living in the modern world, and he describes it so well.

As we approach Thanksgiving, let's see how we can change this.

It can feel daunting to read something like this. A heavy weight sits upon us as we think of our lack of village. But that is temporary, like everything else. We can start to build a village, start welcoming people, and creating this community wherever we are with whatever we have, right now.

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