View from Abroad

My first trip abroad was in 1985. I traveled solo, called by Greece’s siren song. The land, the people, the language, both written and spoken, the smells the sights…all of it was so new. Immersed in history I wandered the cobbled streets of Athens’ old markets. I sat before the stone where the Oracle of Delphi once shared prophesies. I swam in the sea and burned my skin under the Mediterranean sun.

Everything was so old and so very new to me and these memories, images and voices burned into my interior photo album, expanded the way I saw the world. I marveled at being so far away from home, watching my life at a distance and gaining perspective.

I’ve never lost this lesson. Each time I travel, whether within our country or abroad, I am given the opportunity to reflect on my life from a physical distance and to gain new perspective. I’m challenged to learn from my experience and hold onto those lessons.

I am writing this post from Switzerland–an unusual place for an American to be during these Covid times. I’m able to be here because my life partner is a Swiss national. During normal times, I am a regular visitor but it’s been a year since I’ve been here. And I’ll be honest–preparing for this visit was surprisingly difficult. I struggled with whether to leave the US, whether to leave the insular world I’ve created in response to Covid. I wondered, with the ever changing rules, whether I’d be able to return home. I was nervous about getting on a plane. I worried that I’d get the virus. Wrapped in the sadness of the state of our country, I felt paralyzed. I wondered whether I should just stay put.

One by one, I looked at the fears that had gathered and challenged each one. Somewhere within me, I knew that if I could just be brave enough to get on the plane, I’d be better for the leaving. And I was right. I’ve been here for close to a month and though these fears are still quite real, they have loosened their hold on me.

And with this physical distance from my own country, comes the perspective I’d hoped for. There is a distance between me and the current chaos in our country and I am appreciating a temporary home where rules around the pandemic are made and followed…not necessarily because everyone’s happy with them but because people know that in the big picture, it’s for the greater good. In the canton where we live the covid numbers are quite low, because rules have been made and followed. The government officials get behind the scientists and watch the numbers. When we travel to a canton where numbers are higher, we wear masks and fill out contact tracing forms wherever we go. Along with regular updates on the country wide numbers, the government offers mental health guidelines for when one must quarantine. It’s all so calm. And though the Swiss are some of the most fiercely independent people I’ve encountered, my sense is they see the value in working together for the common good.

I watch my partner receive his ballot and information in the mail for a country wide vote–questions separate from Covid, concerning the way of life here. Immigration and the purchase of military planes, are among the things voters are asked to consider. Given information on each topic along with arguments pro and con, voters are asked to read and decide, and then mail or walk in their vote. Each voice is considered. It’s all so, Civil.

And though the news isn’t full of the daily reminders of our country’s troubles, I am still reminded that the U.S. is literally and figuratively on fire. We have big issues that are our country’s alone–issues that we must come together to solve. These problems go generations deep and it takes wisdom and courage to solve them–qualities that our current administration has proven it seriously lacks. Like a constant echo in the background I check and recheck the news. There is so much work to do.

I do look forward to returning to my home. I look forward to seeing the faces of my kids, my mom, my friends and feeling the familiarity of my neighborhood. And, at the same time, I carry this broader perspective, the bigger picture that stepping away can offer. And I wonder, how can we step away right where we are? I will try to hold on to the little lessons in the day to day life here. Taking time to talk to our neighbors. Eating food that is local and healthy. Taking walks and breathing in the air. Pausing. And Pausing again. The German language that’s spoken here offers such a variety of words to describe feeling and need, the angst of life. Weltschmerz means world pain–a sadness about the state of the world. I can relate. Waldeinsamkeit means the feeling of walking alone in the woods. And I understand this too as I walk the numerous paths here, pausing to take in the view on one of the many benches along the way. Along with the lessons I hope to hold onto when I come home, I’m reminded that I’ll probably need some Waldeinsamkeit to help me with my Weltschmerz.