berlinandback-blog

[berlinandback-blog]

Bipolar Sunshine

Here is part 2, sharing my encounter with depression and a personal perspective on mental illness. I’m sharing my story, with the intention of cracking open the heart of a topic often misunderstood and routinely avoided. I'd like to open up this conversation with everyone, because i believe the opportunity to reduce the unnecessary human suffering and to claim back life, love and joy begins and ends with an awareness.  So far in my journey, i’ve experienced a crash, i’ve gone to hospital, i’ve shared a room with a nude geriatric gent who grabs my foot every morning, i’ve surrendered all ambitions, dreams, hopes and even frustrations and tried simplifying a far too complicated and overwhelming life. At this point in the story I'm out of hospital and beginning a process of healing and recovery. I’ll just pick up where i left off in my last post. Recovery. I felt like it was time to discover what this truly meant to me. Unrelenting questions and self defeating beliefs had hijacked a panic stricken mind. I began wondering if it was possible to recover from such a crash? Was i to accept the doctors diagnosis, swallow tablets and resign to a label of Bi Polar? I felt undeserving at the possibility of experiencing joy in my life again. Guilty.

Grim sensations of hopelessness and the persistent reminder of suffering all left me cycling between either panic or exhaustion. Fear had literally strangled the life out of me and it was difficult to summon the energy to even make a decision on my next move. 

What I had discovered, is that any attempt to try and ignore the dark, negative feelings was a futile battle. I had experienced some liberation in surrendering everything, but i was desperately clinging on to a hope of new beginnings - freedom from this hell i was experiencing.  I began by meeting with the doctors who had made my original bipolar diagnosis again and i told them i'd like to come off the medication they had prescribed. It may seem like a step backwards at this point, but personally, although the medication suppressed the anxieties of a worried mind, it left me numb to the motions of life around me. Not to mention each morning was like waking up after a 2 week slumber party with David Hasslehof<--thanks DAD!)  As i pleaded my case to the docs, I was met with a smile kinda like you'd give to a child when they say they want to be superman when they grow up. They told me with absolute certainty and authority, that i will be on this medication for the rest of my life. I was also told i’d better prepare myself for the worst, because i’d also likely be in and out of hospitals for the rest of my life. “ You have bipolar disease sir, after all."

Faaaark…. I froze in the infinite silence of their ruthless words. Yea, I’d experienced a good German’s honesty many times in my life before, but i felt my heart catapult into an oblivion of despair at the grim fortune they had painted of my future. As i stepped up shakily from my chair - with the weighted sensation of last nights medication still reminding me of gravity’s relentless pull - and pushed open the doors of the hospital exit, i felt a wave of resistance wash over me. What had began with a surrendering and letting go of everything now seemed to make way for a spark to ignite a rush of rebellious passion within me. I felt ripped off. I felt sick of feeling helpless. I was sick of feeling unworthy. I was sick of being sick. I felt myself consumed, not only by a passion to prove someone wrong, but something much greater, to prove myself right again. To prove that resilience still shared a place in my human heart. I felt a want, to reclaim my human dignity of choice, which i'd signed away for a hospital bed.

I pictured the helpless souls i’d encountered in hospital, probably still shuffling about the place, waiting for the end to a madness that never arrives. Resigning themselves from life, believing themselves unworthy of such a privilege. I always knew something wasn’t right about this, but now, i discovered something that felt right. This rebellion was enough to propel me towards a new journey where i could find a more instinctive and natural path towards some harmony, to claim back the life i'd lost to fear and anxiety again. It would take time, but i finally felt that trickle of self worth cascading down my spine again. Unfortunately in the beginning stages, because doctor 'Hans worry warts' wasn't willing to meet me halfway, I began reducing the dosage of medication i was on myself. After being on a large cocktail of mood stabilisers and anti anxiety meds, I was completely off the medication within three months and honestly i haven’t looked back since. To this day, the doctor who warned me maintains it’s a matter of time until i’m back in his office. I know i won’t be back and honestly, now that the rebellious passion has passed, i feel only compassion for a man who has seen too many bad cases in his lifetime, resigning to a 'safe' formula “prepare for the worst, because it might happen" scenario. But i do feel a deep sadness to think of all the people still suffering in the misery of this self defeating story.

Just as a disclaimer, if anyone reading this is on medication, i’m not advising anyone to simply come off cold turkey. The process should be completely open and talked about with the people you trust, never alone. It's not about willpower or being 'tough.’ It’s not about being a ‘better’ person without it either. It’s about what feels right and what empowers you. If no medication feels right, Do it. It takes a little perseverance and quite a few crashes to get the mind back at ease and for that it's important to have as much support and encouragement as possible. But i will say, without any over optimism, that it is entirely possible. I sincerely believe there is no such thing as a lost cause. 

I should also say that this doesn't waiver my deep respect i have for the majority of people working within the mental health industry who have not only had a part to play in my personal recovery, but who have dedicated their lives, their time, love and compassion to helping the sick, lost and ignored. Next in my recovery, I rediscovered the act of being patient with myself. Any glimpse of feeling good again and the mind understandably wants to desperately cling on to it. It fears losing it again. But i began to learn to let go and release my attachment to these feel good injections. Interesting enough, I found myself feeling good more and more.

Small steps towards recovery. I did all i could to counteract my brains lack of pill fix by allowing more of what i felt good about into my daily life - exercise, being as social as possible, sweet sweet chocolate, sweet sweet S.E.X, connecting with people, eating well, talking, writing, i began practicing meditation which was a major part in balancing an overactive mind and i surrounding myself with music. That’s my pill right there! 

I learned the art of being good to myself again as well as of just being - a practice that i’d neglected in my endless pursuit of “doing” and although it felt wrong at first, i began to realise how backwards i’d been living my life before.

What began as a struggle to get out of bed, slowly became a curiosity to see the day, an appreciation, which evolved to a hunger to experience new things again. Rediscover life. Once a ghostly 53kg in hospital, I was now eating well and gaining back some flesh around these bones again. I slowly felt the rewards of hope seeping it’s way through these veins. I received glimpses of feeling good again and i allowed myself to sit in that goodness, just like i'd sat in my own despair, except this time without guilt and without trying to cling on.  As i slowly began to give this world another chance, my life experience began to slowly change from one of cold practice to one of feelings. I felt the pangs of hope, i felt the compassion and i heard the advice of the people who surrounded me. I felt gratitude for the simplicity of life and even the glorious emotion of sadness sweep over me, as i began to become aware of all the unnecessary suffering i'd inflicted upon myself. I used these emotions, i expressed them back into the world through words, music and actions.  Never in my life had i ever had the privilege to truly reflect. It became apparent that at 26 years old, i'd taken a pretty ridiculous detour. The sense of responsibility to have all the answers, to make the right choices was overwhelming. But the irony is, this pressure to have everything right now, actually smothered any chance for true learning and growth. In my case, it halted life itself. I looked around me and recognised the expectations to raise kids before we even raise ourselves. To have a life plan before we even discover what we want out of life. Or to use wisdom in the choices we make when we truthfully haven’t had a chance to nurture our own wisdom. Innocence handed over in our twenties in a rush to have it all right now. It was time to stop kidding myself. I accepted that i don’t have all the answers. It seems so obvious and simple to admit this based on my failures, but truthfully, i really thought i had everything all figured out. Or at least, that i should have it figured out. Both a life of fulfilling my dreams, and a life of misery and despair were playing tug of war in my mind. But i left no space for the unknown curiosity, spontaneity, or just the moment of now.

In my resistance, I’d not only let down the ones i loved most, I’d let myself down. I'd accepted a life of suffering, rejection and isolation. Left debilitated in the shell of a being so incredibly disheartened and cold. I was ready to take responsibility for the part i’d played in that. But rather than dwell within the mindless cycle of guilt. I was ready to start again, to learn again.

A major lesson i also shared in my last post was the power of labels. Just like a label of depression or Bi Polar, these labels can help us understand the patterns of our behaviours, but they also have the devastating ability to put ourselves in the confines of a box. They can limit us, or expand. They have the ability to define and categorise a complex, evolving human into a one line, definitive explanation.

Labels like bi polar or mental illness offer an explanation and momentary comfort from confusion. But i’ve come to realise that confusion is just a distraction. A distraction from what we truly want to happen, or to be. For me, confusion appeared, because in my pursuit of passion, i'd lost sight of what truly mattered most in my life. 

Personally, my own labels created a great separation from the ones i loved, it sparked destructive lies and illusions. It stole my worth and ultimately it strangled every last pulse of life within me.

So now, one and a half years on from this experience, i still encounter some low periods. Shit, i still have a human pulse. But before the panic sets in, i lean into that familiarity. I begin without resisting. Here’s a major belief that became my relief - Rappin it out like Biggie B now.. yea..anyways, what i meant to say is -  Depression is not my enemy. Although depression and i once shared a volatile and tumultuous relationship, we’ve both matured enough to patch things up. The ‘low' steps into my presence unannounced and uninvited like that awkward running into with an ex at the mall. (just don’t go to malls, they suck..literally) Depression and i acknowledge each others existence, give an awkward pat on the back before shuffling along with our lives. The point is, there’s now no longer any need to resist negative emotions. To watch the clouds roll in and feel a sensation we’ve labelled 'unhappiness', or 'confusion' doesn't mean i'm 'broken', 'damned', 'trapped' or that i have to experience this forever. If there’s one message i’d like to get across in this blog, for all the bad rap negativity gets, it’s that these negative emotions colour and shape the positive ones. It’s ok to feel confused, or upset, and express negative emotions. It's ok. These feelings and emotions are what mould us into humans and polarise the positive's of life. I recognise It also gives us a chance to express them, outwardly. Whatever your weapon, a walk, a paint brush, a camera, a piano, a pen, even screaming "FUUUCK!" use it. Express it. It’s interesting to notice, that the sooner you accept these fleeting sensations, to have and hold, to bring more juiciness to life, then the sooner you're able to let go. 

A final story i’d like to share with you that i still hold vivid in my mind, was something my old fellow ward mate “Siegried" would say to me every single time I saw him in the corridor. As he shuffled his frail, emaciated body in my direction, with sadness engulfing his defeated eyes, he'd make the same opening statement “Ich habe so viele Fehlers gemacht"- "I have made so many mistakes" - At the time, I felt his words, his pain and struggle like a knife to the soul. I knew that feeling of guilt all too well and his words followed me for a long while after leaving hospital. He’d even appear in dreams, shuffling about in his striped pyjama’s, lost, confused, repeating his self defeating mantra. 

On my final day in hospital as i said goodbye, he shuffled his lifeless shell of a body once more towards me and said those words again. I immediately felt this uncontrollable anger and frustration well up inside of me. i grabbed his shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes as i said “Yea i know! So have i! We all have! Every single one of us! But what can you do?! You just gotta let go!!“  Siegfried was understandably shocked and startled at my response and he immediately hung his head like a disobedient dog and shuffled his way back to bed.  I suddenly felt regret as i realised within myself in that moment, my own hypocrisy. I also clung to the burdensome guilt of past mistakes. I also carried this mantra and as much as i desperately wanted to let it go, it consumed me. The guilt of letting my loved ones down, of letting myself down. Honestly, I was terrified i would wind up as scared, alone and defeated as Siegfried. Ultimately, with the help of friends, family, i found peace with this reality. Thankfully I have learned to let go of that guilt. Because the only thing worst than suffering, is suffering without a purpose.

Ruminating thoughts of past regrets, guilt, shame and fear is a common "sucker" in depression. It's hard to describe the deep sadness i feel even now as i write these words, when i think of the "Siegfried's" in this world still suffering on a cocktail of mood stabilisers, entirely isolated and alone. I truly hope Siegfried learns to let go in this lifetime and if i'm honest, i do feel a sense of responsibility to play whatever part i can in giving back that hope and dignity to the people who fearfully hold on to a label of mental illness. It's easier for people to relate to this injustice when we hear of the loss of celebrities like Robin Williams, who also suffered from a depression that caused him to take his own life. Mrs Doubtfire, peter pan and Jumanji are all lovable characters etched in our memories. Yet i recognise the price of ignoring the other side of humanity. The suffering Robin Williams endured behind the scenes, the same suffering the unknown, neglected souls in this world endure. Maybe if we stopped ignoring this 'dark side', we'd allot closer to some resolve on this issue. As i've discovered, it's the facing of these fears that leads to more of life. 

This is a small glimpse into an issue that in truth, can be far more complicated than a couple revelations to cure. For me, it took many revelations and prods and accepting before i found my autonomous self again. But for that i’m forever grateful. It’s been 18 months since my depression utterly consumed me and stole away human life and love. I haven't used medication for over a year and also haven't stepped foot back in hospital except to give the doctors a new narrative to work with “Hey, I'm goin brilliant without your gloomy predictions and meds thanks doco." I’m healthy, optimistic and i’ve let go of many of the fears and anxieties that once had a hold on this heart. I say this not to bloat the ego, but to illustrate the possibility of a new narrative. One which revolves around hope and resilience as opposed to fear and avoidance. My message to anyone reading this who may be suffering from depression or mental illness is this. You're not alone. I know, you've heard that before. But feel this. I’ve seen the mad, insane world which left me feeling like there was no choice but to escape it. But there IS another side to this madness. If you truly want to feel better, or if you want to just feel again, then my advice is to begin by believing that it's possible. Believe that you're worth that experience and if you can't do that yourself, find someone else who will help in the beginning stages. Look for examples of people who you look up to, friends, family or big time celebrities, it's irrelevant who. Share your truth, take small steps of vulnerability at your own pace and you can be certain that support will show up at the right moment. Make the decision to prove yourself right again. 

If you meet me on the streets, or at a party, or in the nude(unlikely but i just like the word nude and it’s imagery) my hope is that you will search for the entire person. That person is always changing and evolving just like you. To wade through the story of a person and sit in their equality without a preconceived judgement is a privilege i believe we all deserve. Right now, I’m here, in this collective molecular structure we call a body, to experience life to it’s fullest. I feel committed to a purpose, in helping play a part in bringing more awareness and hope to those lost in a label of depression or mental illness. My hope for the future, is that more people can see the other side of this suffering and discover the joy in treating others with that same respect. Let’s not allow more people to take their own lives before we agree we all have an opportunity to play in this.

I understand now that this trudging through the mud and the filth, the shame and the guilt is what gives us all a reference for happiness. It’s the flaws, the quirks, the mistakes that i’ve made, that mould an appreciation of a life that i want to actively play a part in. Pain, joy, mistakes and all. As for me, i will continue exploring authenticity, to write, share, spill, enjoy, let go. At 29 years old, i admit i’ve got so so much to learn and it feels good. I look forward to meeting more people who will join me in that journey. 

#bi polar #bi polar disorder #mental illness #depression #berlin

[berlinandback-blog]

You have Bi Polar disease Sir.

Near the beginning of 2012, i quit a job that was infinitely sucking the life from my soul and I left the comfort of home in New Zealand behind to try and find some more purpose to this whole charade again. First stop Berlin. The day i handed in my resignation, was one of the most liberating moments of my life and was also the day i made a commitment to trust my own inner instinct, urging me in pursuit of adventure and passion. I began a journey of self discovery, where i could attempt to peel back all those conditioned layers of fears and uncertainties i’d let smother all sense of freedom. I also began writing about my experience(on this very same blog!) as an outlet to capture this adventure to Berlin. Just the act of commitment reawakened a new level of energy within me and I remember pure freedom and liberation racing through these veins as i sat unrestrained on a plane bound for Germany. I'd almost forgotten these natural feelings of hope and excitement i'd experienced many times before in life. Here i was, truly alive again.

Fast forward 6 months later, January 2013 and my life had rapidly taken a downward spiral. In the centre of Berlin’s longest winter in over a hundred years, I recall waking up to streaming bright lights intertwined with blurry shapes, hovering over me. I was dazed and distraught in a hospital bed with my brother, wife and her family at my bedside, not wanting to move, not wanting to exist. I felt entirely defeated. Within the space of a matter of months, life had somehow morphed into a force i just couldn't cope with anymore. Somewhere along my ‘well intentioned' journey of self discovery, i’d collapsed into a debilitating depression.

Now that i’ve set the scene, let me maintain the authenticity of why i feel compelled to share my story. It’s not to be all SHOCK! BAM! HORROR! TABLOID?! Or to manufacture an intricate story that might deserve a mention in the New Zealand Woman's weekly(even if I have fantasized about a two page photo heavy spread of me wearing an unbuttoned flannel shirt, draped over a horse in the countryside) But truthfully, when deciding whether to share my story, my intentions and what value it might hold, i was only hit with the question - why wouldn’t i share my story? Well…that answer is simple. Because it’s not cool. Because there’s a sense of shame and guilt attached to it. There’s no 'underdogs on top' heroin addiction recovery, or rockstar penache that we’ve learned to glorify in simply not coping with life. There's nothing heroic about sharing the fears, anxieties & weaknesses that underlie your own unhappiness. Let’s be freakin frank here folks, depression and mental illness isn’t a topic most of us like to chat about over a casual cup of coffee and if you've never experienced it, then jolly well rightly so! But the reality I've come to realize is that millions of people DO experience this worldwide and that numbers continue to climb. Clearly, an issue much bigger than me and my own ego. Is this suffering necessary? My personal experience has led me up and down a rabbit hole only to believe, at the very least we can reduce this suffering. But while i can't speak for others, or solve such a massive issue simply by sharing my own story, I have decided that i no longer want to be apart of avoiding it. An issue that has led humans, with hearts and lungs like you and i to take their own lives. Something i never fully understand up until now.   So this is an honest account of my personal encounter with mental illness. The debilitating, seemingly eternal downward spiral of helplessness followed by the ups and downs of a recovery. This is my truth and my only intention and hope is that whoever reads this, might view mental illness and depression in another light. Believe me, there was a stark contrast between my initial romanticized plane trip to Berlin and my ambulance ride to hospital. You don’t feel a whole lot of hope and inspiration flowing through the veins as you sit confined within a cold, lifeless building, in a foreign country, staring blankly out the window into a dark wintery landscape, surrounded by sick people, entirely consumed with your own utter despair. I never felt such a sense of loss in my entire life, i never felt so entirely lost.

In hospital i suddenly found myself in a small room with blinding fluorescent lights, surrounded by three serious looking german men dressed in white lab coats and each bearing clipboards and pens at the ready. After a brief life background check and a few questions about my family history, the immediate diagnosis was Bipolar disorder. Or as they translated it with the drop of a head and sorrowful clown like frowns “I'm afraid you have bipolar disease, Mr Hooooges.” Of course, when you share a lengthy family history of drug and alcohol abuse/addictions, anxiety disorders and all sorts of radical human behaviour, you’re throwing meat to the pen clicking, ravenous lions. I immediately had a sense as if i’d just dropped the hammer on the last three generations of my bloodline, sentencing them to eternal condemnation for their sins. “Hang on!” i wanted to scream as they pushed down their pens in resolution “they also did some normal stuff in their lives, like raise a family, go to church and pay taxes…mostly!!’ But it was too late.  I was given a label, fed a cocktail of mood stabilizers and anti anxiety medication to help put my mind to sleep.

A first night highlight in hospital (which would literally become groundhog day for the rest of my stay) was waking up to the sound of an alarm clock at 5 am. I gazed around the dark, bare room. There were three other beds surrounding me. But noone seemed to notice the alarm. Snoring on through. After a good couple of minutes, I dragged myself groaning out of bed, still knocked out from all the medication, searching for the alarm sound. It came from the direction of the bed opposite from me. An elderly man lay motionless in bed with his mouth gaping up to the sky. I wondered if i should check his pulse to see if he's still alive? After some drugged out fumbling, I finally found the alarm clock next to his bed, hit the switch and staggered back to bed. I awoke again at 6 am with a firm squeezing sensation around the end of my foot. I shot up in alarm. “MOOOOORGEN!" i was greeted by the perpetrator of the false alarm. A pale faced, dead panned, geriatric gent was now entirely in the nude standing at the foot of my bed…clenching my foot. No other way to describe his appearance other than the professor guy from ‘Futurama.' He continued to stumble around the room aimlessly for the next half an hour like a zombie taking a swipe at my foot every once in awhile until i eventually got up. Was this guy the heavy artillery in disguise hired to get me out of bed? The medication wasn’t working, the cartoon character scene I'm describing was filled with a sense of imminent dread, for the nightmare of a world i'd woken up to. In my mind, if hell did exist, i was in it. My other roommate was a dishevelled looking man by the name of “Siegfried”. A literary writer in a past life, Siegfried would get up during the night, peer into the cupboard next to his bed as if he’d seen Narnia - with a look of tired terror and despair - before retiring, googly eyed back into his bed, pen in hand scribbling on a pad of paper. He'd repeat this ritual about every 10 minutes throughout the night. That was his existence. Or there was “Heike” who tried to convince me there was a serial killer conspiracy happening and would routinely steal my meals from the lunch room every day and then break down in tears when i asked her if she'd 'accidentally' done it again.  To tell the truth, the people there, they annoyed me more than anyone I've ever encountered in my 28 years of life. They annoyed me mostly because..well..they were annoying people. They did annoying things. Whining, timid, desperate and utterly defeated human beings. Believe me when I say i don't say that without any sort of compassion for their situations. But at the time, I realized with panic in my heart, that these people were really just a reflection of myself. In the past, i would have simply dismissed myself as an optimistic, motivated person and express my empathy…or even worse...pity to anyone i’d met who was struggling with life. But now looking into the eyes of these suffering people, i felt an unrelenting knowingness. The uncomfortable thought that we were all in the same line. Struggling, vulnerable, faulty human beings. I truly felt it's reality cloak me in all it's vulnerable rawness. Although my experience in hospital was far from the passion chasing, seemingly fairy tale existence i once inhabited, I was forced to get along with many strange and fascinating people who opened up to me in moments of sanity and shared their stories. There were writers, musicians, receptionists, cleaners, receptionists, ex business owners and even entrepreneurs in the mix. But most shared common characteristics. They had once upon a time been hopeful, creative, motivated people. Now, simply lost souls, waiting for their suffering to end, withering away in self defeat. In those fleeting moments in hospital, i saw the beauty behind the beast if you will. As i let go of any need to separate myself from them, and released judgement, i saw human beings who had for whatever reason, excluded themselves from the privilege of life. Although I craved my own escape,  I couldn't help but wonder how anyone could ever heal in a place like this. Once i was finally given clearance to go back home, what followed for me was a whole heap of fear, confusion and frustration that only a loving soulmate, family, friends and music could even begin to resuscitate back to life again. Life had become this confusing, chaotic, uncontrollable mess and i had no idea how to piece it all back together.  I suppose at this point, I've covered the highs and the lows, but not the reasons for what led to such an extremely rapid low. After all, i'd moved to berlin and was chasing my dreams. I wasn't in any sort of state of poverty, no history of abuse or inherent mental illness. From many angles, life was good, so why such an intense experience? This question obviously became the source of exploration over the last year and a half, which I hope to share some essence of in this post. As I've come to realize and experience, once it arrives, curing depression is often not just as simple as giving the advice "Quit your whining and look at those other people in africa suffering. There!! Better? Let's share a honey sandwich now.." It may be a valid point, but i'd wager not awfully helpful to a human being who doesn't feel like they should exist currently.

To look at it through the psychological lens for a second, simply put my brain crashed. Or, i'd crashed my brain! After such a supercharged period of being creative again in Berlin, i'd overloaded it in my own individual pursuit of ambition. My seemingly innocent idea of chasing my creative passions had flipped around into anxiety and full blown panic attacks. I was attempting to learn a new language in three months, going to school every day, trying to research how to launch a company with my wife, write new music and blog posts, all amidst adjusting to a brand new lifestyle and culture. 

I came to the realization that somewhere in pursuit of my passions i’d confused excellence with perfectionism. I forgot how to stop, relax and to just simply be. Without realizing it, my adventure to Berlin began with a sense that i was lacking so much in my life and that i needed to fill that void with more achievements and goals - To be fair, i had become disconnected from my own intuitive self back home in office space - But this obsession to constantly need to tick things off a list robbed me of the appreciation of what i already had right now. So in retaliation, I put myself through many days of pushing my limits mentally and physically and in some strange way, convinced myself during those relentless lows that followed, that this was normal, that pain and struggle was the sacrifice for following after your passions. But once the short lived bursts of satisfaction at the end of a hard, miserable slog had evaporated, i was left deflated - unhappy & unfulfilled. Anxieties and stresses soared & ultimately my own egoic pride would utterly consume me until i couldn’t take anymore. Until I gave myself the final nudge over the edge and into a hospital bed, where i belonged.  Without direction, I found myself in a constant state of uncertain limbo trying to decide what to do with my life, with life in general. At this point, what terrified me most was that i had absolutely no sense of feeling or emotion. Once my steady guidance system, the motivation to do anything, to just move had vaporized into nothingness. That energy of pure passion and excitement i’d once had racing through my veins had been self exorcised.

I recall in the early self destructive phase before i was admitted to hospital, i held on to a thought, a distant hope that i desperately clung to, that there must be an end to all of this madness. But like a nightmare i couldn't wake out of, i continued to feed my fears and that end never arrived. I continued to cleverly construct my very own apocalypse and slipped further and further away from the people i cared about most and into my own miserable insanity. As if my heart had sprung a leak, dripping every drop of life out of me and transfusing it with despair. I'd discover that despair is just as infinite as joy & the story i told myself, is the story i'd inhabit.

I ultimately came to the realisation and acceptance that if there was any end to this, it had to start with me. To recognize the hole i had dug for myself and reluctantly accept it was time to begin climbing my way out. Ultimately I made a decision not out of willpower, but out of necessity, to give myself the chance to discover the process of healing.  I continued to reflect over those first six months in Berlin which had ultimately led me to this place of self destruction. One thing that came to light was that after quitting my job and leaving New Zealand, this new commitment had unlocked a whole lot of trapped creative energy i’d let build up during my years of stagnancy. Looking back now, i didn’t really know how to be in control of this in my new reality, where i was an autonomous human being once again.  In always wanting to DO, I had lost that space where i was also comfortable doing NOTHING. It was only after this realization that i could even begin the process of recovery.

After hospital, i was also referred to a therapist which turned out to be another stubborn step in the right direction. I let go of 'the tough guy routine' and began processing the aches and pains. My therapist would ultimately bridge the gap of a label of Mental illness and become a very close friend who has helped more than i can ever express.  As i began to small steps back into the world, i still held a deep sense of disconnection. Even attempting little things like writing a short email, would take me hours. My memory was also completely shot and I was quickly overwhelmed with frustration at my own inabilities. As the medication kicked in again, I would once again sense those fleeting glimpses of happiness, while in the very same motion feel myself being dumped ashore by a wave of negative feelings and emotions. I knew these little white pills couldn't fill this void, or repair past mistakes. Eventually, I had no choice but to give in and surrender everything. All my ambitions, all of my dreams, hopes, frustrations, fears, i surrendered all control. Everything. I dropped the lot and attempted life again by rediscovering an appreciation of the simple things, which i’d forgotten about in my endless rumination of my past ‘mistakes' and my perceived disastrous future. It was a pure and simple reset. I was at zero, no longer fighting the current. Attempting to start out this life again with a clean slate.  Phew! So at this point, if you've actually stuck with me this long you'll feel me when i say this story is ‘mildly’ on the heavy side and I'd understand if your gasping for a breather! So I'll leave this post right here. I intend on writing a follow up post soon, sharing my journey of recovery and how i came to discover Bi Polar isn't a label worth hanging on to. 

Bis nächstes mal!

#bi polar #bi polar disorder #mental illness #depression #berlin #Berlin

[berlinandback-blog]

Oh... so you call THIS winter Berlin?

Recommended music you should turn up loud and listen to with headphones GYPSY AND THE CAT - TIME TO WANDER

I felt like i was in the throws of a war on the bank of the gaza strip. Through the chaos of sparks and firework implosions, cheers and screams erupted into the midwinters air, voices united Drei! Twei! Eins! Frohliches Neu Jaaahr!!! There goes 2012...2013 had arrived and the world was still in tact. When it comes to a celebration i don't consider myself the kinda chap to decline in favor of retiring to bed for some Sex & The City reruns with a flat glass of bubbles in hand…although as i write this.. i can strangely imagine it's perks. But for some reason on this particular new years eve night, i felt more like one of those sad sack wrinkly, half deflated balloons that you'd find lying under the couch, 3 weeks post aunt martha's 46th birthday bash. There's an endless amount of names we cleverly try and label it, 'the gloomy winter blues', 'melancholy', 'dullness' , 'depression' , 'dreariness'. Call it what you like, but six months into my potplant escape and It's safe to say Berlin's soft summer evenings spent lounging by the canal with that faint smell of charcoal BBQ's wafting up the nostrils and sipping back on a german brewski amongst new friends, was all too quickly becoming a distant memory.  The honeymoon period was over sugar and suddenly Berlin's canal side fantasies had been cloaked in a dark shroud of a European winter.(which literally would become the darkest winter in half a decade!)

Berlin winter begins...

It's been awhile since i've written a blog post and when i began this forum to share my Berlin travel experiences, I wanted it to be a place where i could also spill the raw, truthful and struggling stumbles of this journey. Let's be honest though, the ideals of our imaginations never spend too much time plotting out what to do when life throws the curve ball. My first post for 2013, is about groping through the lows of life and catching up with an ego racing in relentless pursuit of ambition. As i mentioned in my last post for 2012, my language learning had left me with this unnerving sense of isolation, desperately seeking some heart in a head full of muddle. Looking back though, i can  see how I'd been running on empty throughout December, relentlessly pushing myself through my German learning pursuits. New years and Christmas festivities drew to a close and the Home Alone DVD box set was once again stashed away, (until everyone's fave robbers Marv and Harry were ready to be outsmarted by a 7 year old punk yet again!) It was back to school for me to finish up my German course and i was all set to do my final B1 German test at the end of January. As i stepped back into the classroom again, everything seemed to continue around me, but in a circular blur kinda way. I felt this overwhelming inability to keep up or concentrate. Conflicting grammar rules and new words were raging within me and i felt a dreaded sense of anxiety welling up inside of me.   It's interesting in these times of overwhelm. It's like every resting doubt, fear and anxiety can suddenly burst to life and before you know it, you find yourself mulling over mistakes of the past and consumed with the worries of the future. I recognize now, that somewhere along my journey, everyday life had become more about proving myself and less about being content with myself.

This whole trip to challenge myself in Berlin, committing to exploring the creative self, writing more music, living in a new city and learning a new language was all a bid to learn more about myself. I'd started by setting myself the challenge of learning conversational German in 3 months. But I discovered that there are times when ambition can sabotage your own happiness.

and welcome to Berlin..mid Spring..

I'd finally faced my own limit to resistance, where a challenge morphs into a pressure and adventure became a rippling tide to swim against. Once those challenges had transformed into overwhelming pressures, the question i had to ask myself was "Is it really worth destroying that inner spark, all for the sake of my own ambition?" Somewhere amidst my own deadlines and "goals", i'd left spontaneity, curiosity and enjoyment for dead. Learning this new language had allowed me to lean into those uncomfortable, embarrassing moments, of learning new words and embracing an entirely new culture. I made quick progress, but eventually i reached a point where it felt like i'd stopped making progress. Instead of leaning into this, i let it fester into anxiety. As i aimlessly grasped my way through this low, I felt at a crossroads again and i knew i had to find some balance to my own self sabotaging ambition. I decided to try putting the whole concept of "removing expectation" into motion. So as my language course drew to an end, i postponed my final exam for another month. As much as this low seemed to insist on having me retire to bed(without a glass of bubbles OR sex n the city blaring in the background), I decided it was a good idea to try and find some part time work at a local cafe to keep social and to put my German into real life action. There was something about the act of going from cafe to cafe though, handing out CV's with a forced smile that felt...out of character! The minor details of it being winter and having no cafe experience to speak of was also a little disheartening. A time of year when Cafe owners are more likely to use your CV to kick start their fireplace than lend an eye over some foreign chaps life achievements. Did i mention it was the darkest winter in 43 years?(This stunning winter would also harbor The coldest European month in 135 years) Alright then, just like any job hunt, i had to accept some of the uncomfortable, but i desperately wanted to avoid that typical expected routine and opted to leave my CV at home as i ventured out on a little neighborhood excursion. I wasn't exactly bounding out the gates, but I committed to two things. Firstly to remove my own expectations and secondly to speak to the cafe owners as if i was a friend asking for a favor, as opposed to a sales man selling some sort of pyramid scheme.

Home studio.New release in the pipeline with Hughes brothers. It. Was. Fun. Hold fire

I went into 3 local cafe's and introduced myself. I told them that i was looking for some work experience and to soften the blow of having no previous experience, said i'd be willing to work to begin with for experience only, without pay. I somehow managed to avoid that predictable act of trying to sell myself with an awkward smile and the ritualistic handing over of my life achievements. It's hard to describe, but with expectation left to the wayside, i felt a new sense of liberation from within and a confidence in myself that i'd not previously encountered.

It was no surprise that they immediately shook their weary heads and told me they had no work going at this time of year, but as i pushed my offer to work for free to begin with, their faces seemed cave into a puzzled look of disbelief and i held their attention in the most peculiar way. Two out of the three cafes offered me work then and there. But what was even more surprising was that they insisted on giving me paid work. Although it wasn't allot of shifts to begin with, it was the perfect opportunity to slowly ease my way into a more personable world of German language learning. So after feeling the warmth of these small success', i began using this same liberating approach in other areas of life, where my ambitions had become a paralyzing weight draped over my shoulders. Instead of waiting for the perfect timing, or perfect release, i launched the online bow ties company Bow Bandits with my wife. I also finally finished a new song for release, i had another track synched for a few spots on a TV programme, completed a music video, ended up completing my final exams for the German integration course and most importantly, i didn't feel like any of it was a debilitating chore. The point is, I found enjoyment again... and it's not just because i was ticking goals off a list. It's because i concentrated on my own strengths and let expectation take a back seat for a stint.

But what i now feel certain of, is that even though it's good to feel some of the payback for these "achievements", they are at the end of the day only "achievements", they don't amount to who i am, or my experienced happiness of life. Yea, if im honest, it feels good to tick them off the list, they are the fuel to an ego and i think it's OK to allow myself to feel some sense of pride in that. But in the end, it was my own liberation from pride and ambition that left me feeling closer to happiness again.

Got to ride this doozy around the island of Palma Mallorca and explore ancient ruins in Athens with me wife to celebrate a whole one year of marriage...i think i might be finally used to saying i have a wife..

The latest lesson of this Berlin adventure has taught me that there's a sacrifice to chasing after something that your passionate about and experiencing the high's of life..you also inevitably have to be prepared to encounter those lows. The unfortunate and uncomfortable truth us humans hate to accept is, we can't always experience happiness or satisfaction in life, even in pursuit of challenge and adventure :O Or as I'm discovering, especially in pursuit of challenge and adventure. Bummer but, the painful and disappointing does exist. But I've also come to find it's sometimes easier to accept in these moments when you're not at your best, in that low. That with every high, there's a low to follow. I guess it's that wave or this pulse of life. But as i sense it and before those clouds roll in, just for a fleeting moment i now begin by simply accepting it. Then remind myself this wont last forever. Yea, i'll do everything possible to get back behind the wheel of happiness, but this sadness or frustration or melancholy is only temporary.

Meet Pedro...we came across this little greek zorro in Athens. He's just realized we've taken a photo snap and is about to erupt and demand an extra 2EU before trying to shoo us away like alley cats...charmer

I went out on a whim when i decided to move to Berlin. I had hoped it would be an experiment in self discovery - not exactly the kind that would land me in India's slums meditating 15 hours a day - more the kind that would have me exploring more of my own potential and here's what i take from it this far in = When i began this journey, i was escaping my own flatlining lifestyle and starving for some adventure. I discovered Germany's seedy office life, found some discipline, wrestled with procrastination and got schooled German style! Eight months into my Berlin journey and my own addiction to ambition and constant search for a challenge had turned itself inward, pushing me to my limits. Both my secure AND my challenging lifestyles had their opportunities to take the best of me. But I'm glad now that i didn't decide to jump on a plane straight back home when i felt that resistance. Because as predictable as it may sound and even though i never could have imagined the depths  of the lows i was going to experience over here, i've learned so much more about myself after navigating the ugly side of vulnerability.

Experiencing my own vulnerabilities and weaknesses, as well as my strengths and abilities and like doing some sort of strange circle, I look at things a little differently now. I know that if i truly want to find fulfillment, it's important to embrace that balance. The tightrope between stagnancy and overwhelm. That flow in between challenge and enjoyment. So as Berlin's stubborn winter finally seems to be handing over the keys to spring, the charcoal black tree branches desperately outstretch their thin straggly arms up towards the suns rays and i feel a sense of a lift reawakening these bones again. Looking back, the lessons learned from the lows, as painful as they were, have ultimately been just as valuable as any high i've ever experienced. This is how i know, I've come to the right place.

Here's my salute to a Berlin Winter...you sure made an impression son. Summer soundtrack at the ready - Young Galaxy - New Summer

#berlin winter #gypsy and the cat #young galaxy #new years #palma mallorca #athens greece #melancholy #depression #adventure #bow bandits #hughes brothers

[berlinandback-blog]

Finding heart in a head full of muddle

Recommended music you should turn up loud and listen to with headphones Home Alone Soundtrack 

Introducing month 6 of my mid 20's potplant escaping, passion chasing adventure. Month number 2 of Deutsch learning had ensued and i decided it was high time for another holiday already right!? So after searching for that next destination to explore while over this side of the world, my wife :O (8 months into holy matranomy and it's still strange to say) and i found some super cheapster flights to Budapest. We spent 4 days perusing the cities cobblestoned streets and lanes, exploring underground labyrinths beneath castles, snapping photos of 'some pretty snazzy architecture' and even getting to know some of the good friendly local folk! Coming from New Zealand, i like to keep reminding myself while it lasts, of that nifty little perk having europe at my feet. As opposed to the simple yet modest charm of the Chatham Islands in my backyard.

Photos credits go to classic yet comical all american yankee

Back down to reality and on our first night in Budapest, we stumbled into a back-alley pub to escape that unforgiving winter chill and struck up conversation with a well proper english speaking gent sitting at the end of the bar. Originally from Britain, but having moved to Budapest 4 years ago, he was working in Budapest as an English teacher. 

As we all began to get ourselves acquainted through the art of small talk, he told us about his life goal of learning 10 languages before he hit the age of 50. Shifting his gaze sheepishly to the floor and with a tone of genuine self-disappointment he told us of how now at 46 years old he had only reached 8 languages fluently. Apparently the complexities of the Hungarian language had set him back. Eeeeem..uh hum... yeh look i'll admit i went a little rosy cheeked as i thought about my own struggles only months into learning my one other foreign language. 

As the next brewsky landed on the edge of the bar, small talk was over and done with and conversation swiftly became a little more unceremonious. He continued to tell us personal stories of his wild and wacky adventures through, it's safe to say, well over a grocery list of countries. As he continued to share his tales of languages learning, I suddenly noticed his open and relaxed composure stiffen and his eyes glaze over in an arrested look of despair as he said "honestly….you can really lose yourself learning a language." I sensed an ominous tone of warning in his voice and his words hit me in that sweet spot. The cold hard fearful sweet spot that is. Strong words, but even in my short stint of learning another language, i could relate to the isolation that comes with trying to communicate and express yourself in a new language.

My budapest encounter made me think about my recent experiment, finding my German character.  Unlike that funny quirky character we all know and love from that popular sitcom friends, my attempt at 'The German Chandler' left my ego suitably bruised and battered. But make damn skippy, i wasn't going to simply retire as the German character 'Zeemon, the painfully awkward, nervous guy Aus Neuseeland'. So i said to myself(internally in my head) Hey Simo! (that's what i call myself in my head, just to keep conversation casual and light) Lighten up buddy! Let's try exploring some more of the more quirky, creative and well…genuine self yea? 

Maybe it's just because i'm this hyper emotional song writing typa guy, but in my experience this far into language learning, gorging my brain with words and tables and rules just doesn't sit right! It all felt far too cold and calculated for my likings. Like computers downloading and spitting out data at the ready and to be frank, all this new information seemed to be sending my wired little mind into a bit of a frenzy. This way of learning lacked heart and imagination. So to counteract the anxieties of a racing head full of words and grammar rules. i used the second month to try and seek a little more heart.

Rickety ole rollercoaster riding at Berlin Weihnachts Markts before XMAS!

I'd made a couple of close friends during my time at "Deutsch School" and as usual, each 'stereotype' of people would generally stick to their groups. Old with the older generation, the polish with the polish and the NZ guy…floating democratically between them all.

The whole point of my language course is to help immigrants(like me!) integrate into Germany, which means that everyone is here to learn the language with the intention of finding work and settling down with their family/partner/cat/budgie.*(Yet another gem from Dennis in Accounts) Obviously my reasons for being in this course were a little different and so i found myself drifting round with the same pack of wolves between classes.

But even though Berlin might not be a place i intended on settling down in and we were all from entirely different backgrounds, i decided to try putting my own selfish indifferences aside and tried getting to know the rest of my classmates.

It's amazing what you discover when you allow yourself to put that pre-judgemental self on the shelf for a stint and dig just a little deeper under the surface of peoples lives. There was the humble pizza maker from Cuba just trying to find a secure job so he can keep his Visa and support his family, or the big friendly giant bank teller from Poland who came to Berlin for a change in his office routine(ya speaking my language!) , the young professional soccer player who has hopes of playing for German national team one day, or the hungarian massage therapist who probably hasn't slept in over a week from the stresses of trying to start up his own company here in Berlin. 

There was pain and struggle beautifully intertwined with that counter twist of hope and inspiration and as i began to hear more stories and ask more questions, i was surprised to discover an entirely different side of each of these people come to life. Like i'd flicked some internal switch. There was an illuminating warmth through each of their stories. I guess that right there is the touch of heart i was craving. 

Hughes Brothers attempting Christmas village style with Ricky tough guy 

These people had all come to a brand new country to begin a new life, navigating the challenges the best way they knew how and even though we couldn't use fancy words, or correct grammar to express ourselves, we still found that spark of human connection that we shared in our joint pursuit of learning this language.

I have one month to go until i sit the final B1 exam and i've got to admit, i'm beginning to feel the pressures of learning this language at such a fast pace sinking in. I could never have anticipated the amount of mental energy this language pursuit would take. But although there's been some truly hard work, with plenty of rises and falls along this yellow brick road, i feel confident that i'm finding some heart in a head full of muddle. I've almost finished recording a handful of some solo tracks and am working with that beauty of a wife of mine towards the release of our first joint creative eco friendly bow tie project at the beginning of 2013, both of which have helped keep me grounded.  

These latest lessons, have undoubtedly dealt their rewards and taught me that importance of always seeking that balance between head vs heart. Of reminding myself from time to time like a swift painfully human kick to the shins, that i'm not a machine.  More than that though, i'm learning patience, as i continue to take each unpredictable, stumbling step onwards.  

So as my one week december holidays begin, Mariah Carey christmas carols arrest my ears and i find myself once again back in that tiny village, of Wangelin(population count: 35), unwrapping Weihnachts Geschenke with my bro and wife's extended family, watching Home Alone(1 AND 2) and sipping that soothing warmth of Glühwein. It couldn't be any further from that radiant sunshine and hissing snarlers on the BBQ back home amongst close friends and family. But that glimpse of snow, Christmas Markets, candles and german feasts has brought a whole new experience of Christmas to life and i can honestly say, in the fitting words of that kiwi hit by The Swingers there ain't no place i'd rather be!

Fröliches Weihnachten und Rutsch ins Neujahr!!

A snap with dirty Deutschy Father Christmas and the family

#buda labyrynth #deutsch #learning #heart #budapest #berlin #glühwein #hughes brothers #weihnachts markts

[berlinandback-blog]

Getting schooled by Germany's Danny Tanner!

Recommended music you should turn up loud and listen to with headphones - Frightened Rabbit - State Hospital

It was an unusually cold and crisp Autumn morning in Berlin as i stepped out of Nollender Platz Train Station and made my way towards class. A chilling reminder that winter is next in line. Here i was, 3 months into my Berlin adventure and trying out language learning at school as a  "grown up".. kinda guy. 

Just over 4 months have come and gone since I set foot in Berlin and finally(after wading through Germany's "highly revered" paperwork)  it's beginning to feel a little more homely in this city.

So far, i've secured a 3 year visa, swallowed some sweet joys and bitter frustrations of learning a new language, played my first gig with Hughes Brothers in European territory, had my first conversation in another language, wrestled with procrastination, rediscovered some creative enjoyment, felt that genuine pulse of writing new music again and now, pucker up for Berlin's latest chapter; Getting Schooled in Germanland!!

I felt a little uneasy about jumping in on the last month of this 8 month integration course as the new kid in a class full of (no doubt) besties. But as i recently decided, it's time to unhinge this ego of mine - and throw a bit more rope to the child - in both my creative and learning pursuits. To dive into some spontaneity have some fun with this whole learning adventure!

Weekend road trip to peruse the beautsiful Dresden!

So on the train ride over, i decided i'd kick school off with a little experiment. Because in this new language,(i figured) i could play out any german character my heart desired. For example, maybe I try acting the "The German Chandler" - Crowd pleasing, comical guy who lives to lighten the mood and pipes up at any and every opportunity with one of those witty(and generally inappropriate) remarks. Or i could have  "The Deutsch Chad" - That cool, calm and collected guy, sitting at the back of class, who makes fart noises with his hands and throws paper at the teacher while their back is to the students. The possibilities continued to entertain my ravenous imagination.

My heart picked up speed as i climbed the three flights of steps and knocked on the classroom door. Day 1 was about to begin! I'm greeted by my new Lehrer,(teacher) A friendly enough gent. Slim build, tall frame with specs, receding grey hair and on a side not - had an oddly striking resemblance to a more mature version of Danny Tanner from Full House. I introduce myself as "Zeemon"(In the german tongue) - which ironically makes me feel like i'm posing as some alien from a distant galaxy - "Aus Neuseeland"(from New Zealand) 

As the rest of the students arrive for class and take their seat, i continue with the pleasantries, "Ich bin Zeeeemon, Aus Neuseeland."(My name is Simon from New Zealand) So far so good! Luckily, coming all the way from that tiny speck of an island called New Zealand give me instant "unique" street cred with my teacher and classmates. Everyones especially fascinated after i tell them how long it takes to travel to Europe on a plane. Yea, these folk are friendly enough! My confidence perks up, I reckon i can get the hang of this whole german school bizzo! But my joy screeches to a dangerous halt as the class books are pulled out and the entire classroom falls into an eerie silence. I watch in horror as gravity seems to grab and claw each of my classmates faces into a droopy state of mourning. 

The teacher fired into the book tasks and i immediately felt that wave of anxiety begin twitching within the deepest pits of my stomach. I was back into the familiar storm of language learning. Except this time grasping for some familiarity in a class full of "School lingo." 

Gung ho and here i was, a son of a gun jumping into the last month of studying for B1 level German and i hadn't even learned the German word for task or homework...or Noun, or Verb, or present tense, perfect tense, future, past or any of those other grammatical terms that probably would have served me well in a school aye! Up until this point, i'd only dabbled in street lingo amongst friends and family. I felt my armpits heating up as I fidgeted in nervous anticipation, for the teacher to ask me a question. 

Found this in an old themepark in Dresden. Pfft...like these things work and stuff

As the morning continued, I couldn't figure out if my teacher was trying to memorize my name or he just smelled the rat, as he seemed to ask for answers to every second question. Running on pure adrenaline now, I managed to spit out a couple correct answers off the cuff to keep "Danny Tanner" off the scent, but in reality, i was entirely out of my element with blackboards full to the brim of tables, charts and grammar rules. So this was the wonderful world of language learning in school huh? 

After the first pause of the day, the drama in class continued to intensify as we began discussing household chores. I couldn't ignore the obvious, the state of someones bathroom scum was all a bit grim for my liking! Someone needed to lighten up the mood in here! I desperately searched for an opportunity to trial out this new German character of mine. At that very same moment, a Brazilian guy next to me was enthusiastically gesturing(a trait i've come to admire about those brazilians) to the classroom how he does everything together with his wife. Everything! He exclaimed with explosive eyes. As he was listing all the everyday tasks they do together - vacuuming, cooking, cleaning - i took this as my cue and chimed in by adding "Going to the toilet together?" The classroom immediately fell silent. All 15 pairs of eyes were fixated on me. Yea. I'm cool, i'm cool. Breathe Zeemoon!! To my horror, the teacher fixed his eyes on me and asked me to explain myself. I'll confess, what followed was an uncontrollable rush of blood to the head as i furiously squirmed in my seat, praying the teacher would promptly move things along. 

You know the times where someone tells a joke but it fails miserably and they're left to sheepishly repeat the (usually a bit lame) punchline? Yup, I was that guy, except i was the new guy who held an entire classroom of students at ransom, with a joke that, let's be frank folks, wasn't even up to the illustrious "dad" standard!

As the teacher eventually grew impatient of my feeble attempt to explain myeself and moved things along, it suddenly struck me. Oh shit! That's my character! "Hi, my name's zeeemon, i'll be the painfully awkward, nervous guy Aus Neuseeland!" 

The following 5 days that followed would become, without any doubt, the most gruelling week learning this language.

Because this blog is all about my own accountability and honesty, i should confess that after the shock of day one, i felt yet again entirely defeated and ready to cut ties with this whole language pursuit altogether. Each and every morning of the first week, i'd wake up with the hangover of yesterdays days stress induced chemical rush. In swooped those false reminders of my previously comfortable and stable lifestyle to offer resolution to my struggles.

Hey mom i'm making friends! A day trip to check out the Castles of Potsdam with me new cobber from Brazil who does EVERYTHING with his wife !!!

The first week drew to a close and i knew it was time to reevaluate my next move. Was this level truly learning sustainable? I was learning heaps, Yes, and I wanted to challenge myself in learning this language, but I also recognized that my own ego might have to step aside if i was going to make genuine progress here. After all, this wasn't simply an exercise in trying to tick off accomplishments. If i was going to pass B1 level in three weeks, i still had so much more to learn. If i failed this test, i'd only have to go back and repeat even more hours in school. All for the sake of my own ego? I had to remind myself once again, of the reasons i came to Berlin in the first place.

So I made that difficult decision to go down a class. This means my stay at school has been extended until the end of January. But one month into my school journey and i have no regrets, this is where i should be. I now feel like i'm making some progress in this language again!

So, for the month ahead?! My next challenge is to find the heart and soul of this language in a school full of '"tasks" and "tables" to simply memorize! For both my own sanity AND humanity, i'm currently on a mission to explore creative ways to battle the sometimes frustrating emotional disconnect that comes with simply learning information. I not computer! I am Human! 

This last month of German learning catapulted me into a storm of challenging and relentlessly vulnerable situations. Where my own words and promises were put to the test more than ever. If there's two things i can take from this latest experience, it's that if i'm going to make progress, i shouldn't shy away from these uncomfortable situations. But more importantly, i shouldn't let my ego sabotage my own progress. After all, I'm here to make ego crushing mistake after mistake. In the beginning that's all just words and promises, what follows ahead is that all important action. 

PS: For the third year running, i'll be growing a Moustache for the month of Movember to raise money for the future of Mens Health. Make no mistake I'll look like a jerk from Kansas city, but all thankfully for a better cause than my own self image! Click here to keep updated on the growth(or lack thereof) and if you are able and willing, you spread the love with a donation.

Bis Nächstes Mal!!

#danny tanner #language #german #chandler #creative learning #movember #frightened rabbit #berlin

[berlinandback-blog]

What it means to be brave

Recommended music you should turn up loud and listen to with headphones  Sigur Ros - Mílanó

As i write this, I'm hurtling through Germany's Northern villages(Dörfer) and townships(Städte) on a train bound for Berlin. I spent the weekend in Hamburg visiting some friends. It was my one last inhale before i finally begin my German Integration course. But more importantly, it was the perfect excuse to clear out those cobwebs and try to reactivate my neglected german since my short hiatus. 

We stayed with some friends of the wife(also now friends of mine!) and they were the best hosts that a Deutsch learning babbling baboon could have hoped for. Friendly, patient and encouraging of my repeated attempts at trying to express myself in this new language. To be honest, it was a complete shock to the system going straight into that fast paced environment for an entire weekend and i could feel my stomach clenching and gurgling in it's moments of uncomfortable resistance. But as difficult and sometimes frustrating as it felt a times, i realized that it was the exact push into the deep end that i needed to get back into the game of language learning once again.

So I'm well due for an update, it's been a busy month preoccupied with moving into a new house, having no internet,(this will stop a man dead in his tracks!) then organizing, practicing and playing for the Hughes Brothers first Berlin show. But much more on those adventures for a future post!

Lisa & Tobi, the Hamburg hosts!

I felt compelled to write about another topic for this post, unrelated to my own Berlin learning adventures. A few days ago, early in thy morning(Berlin early) as i was fumbling about in the kitchen like a dazed squirrel deciding on what would be breakfast - i heard that faint, familiar intermittent ringing sound wafting down the hallway. Skype! I couldn't remember if i was expecting a call or not, but that urgent pull of curiosity urged me down the hallway and into my bedroom. To my absolute surprise, the caller that lit up my screen was none other than "Granddad." 

Now i don't know how many of you have grandparents on Skype, but the older generation quite typically wear a badge proudly - like a stubborn veteran of Vietnam - declaring internet and all other forms of futuristic communication are nothing but the devils sorcery and signal the end of "The good old days where i walked 3 miles without shoes in the blistering snowstorm of 1928 to send a written letter via ship....It got to Aunt Merryl safe n sound without all those bloomin wires and wizzing sounds!" Of course they leave out the petty detail of how it took 3 months to arrive.... but i digress.

In stark contrast, Granddad has embraced the technology tubular wave and managed to effortlessly keep up with it's challenging paces. He's just turned 80 years old, yet he's signed himself up to email, Facebook and now hellooo Skype! Come to think of it i'm not sure if he quite got to signing up for "The Bebo" or Myspace, but nonetheless..hats off to the chap.

It just so happened that the day he called me, was the anniversary of my grandma's passing. He'd just come from her memorial site and told me he'd laid down a bunch of flowers for each of our families. He goes to her memorial every single week with a new bunch of flowers to pay his respects. It was exactly three years ago that my grandma had passed away in the night. About five years ago she was unexpectedly diagnosed with dementia. My granddad spent the following two years entirely dedicated to looking after the woman who he'd shared the last 50 odd years with, knowing their time on this world together was drawing to a close. 

It seems like it's in those exact unexpected moments of trouble and despair, when life as you know it gets completely turned on it's head and fear finds it's perfect opportunity to feast, that our true character gets it's chance to either emerge, or retreat in utter defeat.

In real life, we don't always handle everything with that perfect grace and poise the first time, like we would like to have ourselves believe. We have to experience terror and we have to be prepared to make mistakes and we have to accept we don't have all the answers. I realize it would have been heart wrenching and terrifying when Granddad got the news of Grandma's disease. But what i respect most about granddad, is his attitude of hope and resilience. 

I have no doubt there were times where he felt like giving up, like he just couldn't cope, but that's what it is to be human. He didn't just send her off to a home and make it someone else's problem. What matters is that ultimately, he didn't just give up in defeat. His fight to give her the best possible treatment wasn't futile, i believe without a shadow of a doubt that grandma left this world with a smile. Two years after diagnosis, she passed away in her sleep. 

But i don't want to get lost in writing about that pain of watching someone you love being lost to dementia. Most have us have all lost someone close to us at some stage in life and have experienced enough pain to understand and share this paralyzing heartache in some shape or form. This is about what comes next.

The truth is, after granddad lost the woman he loved, he had two options. He could have let himself be entirely consumed in the fear and agony of losing someone so close to him. He could have chosen a path of seclusion and self pity. He could have decided that he'd had enough, all he wanted from life had now departed. After all, how can you say it's "fair" to lose someone you love to such a horrible disease?

But here's where i believe granddad got it right. Now at 80 years old, where most people would retire to a rocking chair, talkback radio and a cup of Earl Grey's finest, he's put adventure at the top of his list again.(Although i know he still loves all three of those brilliant perks)

After the grieving, he ultimately made a decision to open himself up to opportunity and adventure once again, even at 78 years old. He decided to go traveling again and to meet new people. At 78 years old he jumped on a plane to Canada. He then explored America and also went to Cairns in Australia. Every single new place he went to he would strike up conversations with complete strangers he'd meet on the street and return with numbers and emails. He opened himself up to the world again and he'd return home with stories of new friends he'd met while walking through the forest, or a 50 year old lass on the bus that he flirted with "Just for fun, like i did in high school."

What i relate to most in his story as a 27 year old male, was his willingness to be brave enough to accept change and seek happiness again. I know it's what the woman he loved would have surely wanted. That he would still continue to live life to it's fullest and to seek out the sometimes elusive happiness. 

Even though i'm sure there's still moments of pain and loneliness, his genuine upbeat attitude and smile still illuminate all the way from the other side of the world through the Skype and makes me content that he's found that essence of what it is enjoy life once again.

When i think about the death of Grandma now, i try to focus on what she left behind, rather than what's lost. Every time i visited Grandma and watched her dementia progress, no matter where she was in her head, she always had this incredibly open and relaxed smile. I don't think she was in any pain whatsover when she took her last breath, and i'm grateful she was granted that exit from this world. I feel incredibly privileged to have great enduring memories of her time with us. My personal drive and inspiration behind the pursuit of creativity stems from this talented woman. She was a writer, she had a novel published and many poems featured in columns and magazines. She built her life into a legacy and left her mark in the world and to me, that's something that not even death can take away. 

It made me think about an even bigger lesson to be learned from the bravery of Granddad. When shit doesn't go our way, we don't get what we want or lose something we wanted more than anything else, It's way too easy to resign to the formulaic blue print of complaining, criticism and self pity. Which is close allies with Apathy and misery. But i can't help but wonder what doors might open if we were continuously brave enough to try seeking adventure and embracing change in every unexpected situation. To bear hug vulnerability even at 80 years old. In my opinion, that's what it is to be brave.  

In loving memory of Rita M Hughes 1928-2009

#germany #berlin #language #learning language #learning german #death #bravery #brave #skype

[berlinandback-blog]

Procrastination in this modern world of distractions

Recommended music you should turn up loud and listen to with headphones M83 - Intro

I wake up to another brand new day in a foreign country. Another day where i get to create my own schedule of events, set my own deadlines. I'm not recording my lunch breaks in any shape or form, i just go ahead and take them when my stomach signals it's time. I go for a run when i feel like i need a break from my routine. I jump on my bike and search for a local cafe that serves(the oh so rare) Mocha when i want that morning coffee hit. I'm right here and on time. Me. Present. It's made me realize, that it's this exact freedom to be spontaneous that i mourned so much in the shackles of my previous 9-5 routine. I am left wondering though, how long this luxury could possibly last?  

As i wrote in my last post, I have to do an Integration course as part of my Visa requirements, which wont begin until the end of September. Over the past couple of weeks i've wound back the intensity of language learning so i can put more energy into other projects i want to pursue. It struck me recently that i’ve been so focused on learning german, flat hunting, "Social Integration", setting up accounts & all the bureaucracy that comes with moving countries, I’ve hardly picked up my guitar since arriving here in Berlin. Music is such an anchor for me. It's my self proclaimed therapy when those lines begin to get blurred. So i finally managed to put those other distractions aside and begin recording a new solo track i wrote recently - inspired by this whole recent call for change. But I gotta confess, being left to your own devices in a world so full of distractions takes some getting used to. 

Home studio 101

A typical morning for me may start like this. Wake up. Run. Breakfast. Shower. First stop, a quick cheeky check of Facebook. A picture at the top of the news feed catches my eye. *LIKE*. I then notice a comment below for a new music video release of a friend. *CLICK*. Another "Suggested" video on the sidebar catches my eye. One more video wont hurt right... *CLICK*. Brilliant!! I wonder what kind of comments people gave for this video *SCROLL* Ouchh! Hacker2000 & Frenchboy24 completely tore that vid apart, i drift into a daydream contemplating whether these guys cash in any sort of paycheck for drafting their "witty" one liner slammers?! I also wonder if hacker2000 is a actually a legitimate hacker who possibly began dabbling in code immediately after that nasty Y2K bug was cleared of all impending doom. Or if french boy is actually french and whether the 24 is his age or maybe just the amount of girls he's slept with....i really should get stuck into recording that song aye. *RING* Ohh new email!! 

I'm starting to wonder, is it this sequence of LIKE, CLICK, SCROLL & OMFG RING!! that have become the candy of my modern life? The sabotage to my own fulfilling desires.

Distractions. The great avoiders. Help me out here, those moments where you justify changing that desktop screensaver + googling the 7 day weather forecast, to stave off that inevitable act of doing the important. Don't get me wrong, i think distractions are sometimes a welcome hit to the hoofs, that fuel of inspiration, but i still find if i'm not careful, it becomes a bit of a one sided consuming conversation and it's at this intersection that distractions seem to very cunningly morph into another excuse to feel guilty for all shortcomings. 

The Hughes Brothers finally found ourselves a practice space to prepare for our very first Berlin show.

If i go back to when i first arrived in Berlin, i tried dissecting that running internal dialogue between Discipline & Enjoyment, in my attempt to rekindle my neglected creativity. I've got to admit, this discovery helped me make some more sense of my destructive side of discipline. But as I've just recently encountered, there appears to be yet another cog to this wheel of enlightenment. Oh, hello PROCRASTINATION! Procrastination injects me with this heavy, nagging feeling...a feeling as though i'm late to an incredibly important, life changing meeting with an incredibly important(Nameless) person, but i just can't leave the house until i settle on the perfect pair of socks to wear. The socks just never fit the bill of course, cause for no apparent reason, the part of my brain that makes decisions has mysteriously clocked out for the day. It's ridiculous, i know the socks aren't important, but some internal force is holding me at ransom.

So here's what i've tried out in my attempt to lose procrastination and find some focus again in this modern world so rife with distractions. I wrote my list of things that i want to do, that truly matter to me in the grand scheme of things. I then wrote down all other distractions & obligations that can so unwittingly tear my attention away from the important. Then i decided which of those obligations & distractions i want to keep and what needs to go bro!

I was then left alone with this fiercely intimidating list of things to do, that truly matter to me. Shit.... but before i let myself crumble into a frail, withering heap of overwhelming paralysis, i thought i'd remind myself of old lessons learned. That this fear is a good thing, that quite often, it's a sign that i've finally found a challenge worth pursuing. I can be the unwittingly imaginative creator of my own monsters, and i'm a hand up guilty sucker for trying to rationalize, criticize and dissect what i’m GOING to do from every possible angle before i actually begin. I guess it's my human attempt at trying to avoid any possible future pain. 

Sweet show i checked out over the weekend. I'm not a band  @ Lido.

So with my list on paper, i find my solution to break this painful procrastination and begin to make some progress, to lose that nagging feeling and feel assured again = Begin. Leave the desktop screensaver, honestly beatrice(<-- the pseudonym of my prude other self), i'm damn sure that palm tree on a tropical island ain't going anywhere, it'l be patiently waiting for you to update another time. The weathers also going to proceed as per atmospheric conditions whether you check it or not terrence,(<-- My other prude self - Male version) so just buckle in for the rain, hail shine of a ride son. 

Here's what i've found. It's the beginning that's the hardest. Beginning something from blank, without any strict running order of events, like a song without a chord structure, or a story without an ending , even a photo without it's ultimate concept. Starting something that you can call your own, trying to develop an idea that you're passionate about..just spilling some guts can be really difficult. Chasing something that you know might not give immediate reward is intimidating. Taking that first leap into the unknown is terrifying. Beginning something that might not meet your expectations can be paralyzing. But i find if i just begin with the simplest form of an idea and allow myself to put it into motion, eventually i find that rhythm. In this bubble, every reason for avoidance falls away and i'm left wondering how procrastination ever stood a fleeting chance.

I'm halfway through recording this new track and it feels entirely liberating. I can feel that genuine, playful creative outlet coming to life again, more and more ideas. The perfect antidote to my sombre procrastination. Those starving creative synapses are firing their melodic tune in healing celebration. There's this fulfillment that comes with finally taking a leap of faith and doing those things that truly matter, that could never compare to any amount of funny cat video's i would ever discover on youtube. Although...i gotta admit, this one in particular may come close. 

#berlin #foreign country #funny cat video #hacker #im not a band #language learning #lido #m83 #mocha #music #procrastination #travel #y2k #hughes brothers

[berlinandback-blog]

The journey of learning a new language

Recommended music you should turn up loud and listen to with headphones Jinja Safari - Hiccups Remix

I'm going to start this off by making a ridiculously outrageous statement, one that i should probably begin to take a little more seriously. Learning a language is really really difficult. Although maybe I shouldn't put you off just yet, because i'm finding out there are times when perseverance shares it's rewards. 

Before i left for Berlin, I set myself the challenge of learning basic conversational Deutsch within my first two months of living in Germany. Boy sometimes kids say the darndest things right?? So let me just go back and check...yea..no sorry it's all in writing son. My times up. So how did I get on? Well I can manage to hold a simple convo with a german, that's a tick, but i can't honestly say i'm at the level that i had hoped for. Aim high, shoot low innit what the good folk say? This is my glimpse into learning a new language, what it feels like when it it all begins to click(a little) and facing the harsh realization, you still have a long way to go. 

Beers by the canal near Friedrichshain

As i said in my last post, i was just given the unexpected news that to legally stay in Germany, i'm obliged to enroll in an 8 month integration course. I came to the conclusion that although it wasn't in my plans, it's time to let myself accept this unexpected. 

So moving on down this new path, I ended up choosing Hartnuckschule School to study at and went in last week for an Einstufungstest(A test to see what level my Deutsch is at)

Admittedly I was a little weak in the knees when i stepped into the exam "Raum 1". The anxiety stemmed from my ridiculous new fear of being trapped in another seedy pot plant oasis! Get a grip right?! The gent who greeted me brandished a smile and that was enough to keep my attention from straying to any traces of green shrubbery.

Although i'd practiced speaking german with my wife and a few other natives in the past, i always had english as my safety harness. So I made a pact this time, that i wouldn't resort to english. Off with the training wheels lenny. It was just me, the teacher and my limited german language. To begin with, It was awkward and disconnected, but to my surprise, as i introduced myself and the Lehrer (teacher) began asking me questions in german, i could actually understand enough words to make sense of what he was saying and then string enough words together to give him a response! We had ourselves a conversation people. A real life human interaction! It was an incredibly bizarre feeling, like i was on the verge of crossing over into this strange new universe of language.

After question time was over, I had to undergo a timed exam type scenario. This whole test/exam situation felt completely foreign(in every sense of the word) to me. Not since high school had i sat an exam. I sweated my way through all those sneaky German tricks and puzzles and then had the teacher check it over.

There were long pauses and scratches and rubbing of sweaty palms before he delivered the results. To my complete shock and surprise, the teacher gave me the hot tip that i could jump in on the final month of the course, at B1 level. Which would mean i only have to do one month study, then another month learning those thrilling basics of german politics(my warm regards for my ignorant sarcasm to all budding political enthusiast, it just takes me awhile to get dizzy over these matters) recent history, culture and all that jazz before i can then sit the official final B1 exam! 

I was remarkably giddy at the news. Thus far, I've fumbled my way through this language alone by using our online wide world web and pestering my wife like an only child with endless question after question. So i'll admit, a part of me is slightly looking forward to getting a taste of learning with a real life teacher. 

Berlin sunset...not half bad as far as sunset pictures go

But the absolute truth of the matter is that although I may be B1 level on paper, in the real world sweetheart it ain't worth a dime. As i found out almost immediately after i was given my latest good news...

Shortly after my test success, i boarded a train with my wife and we made our way to a small German town called Bad Doberan, to attend her cousins wedding. My first taste of a true German wedding. With a new found spring in my step, I was ready to slip anonymously into the buzzing circles of reunited family & friends as another native German. As everyone arrived and the greetings and frenzied catch ups ensued, I tried my best to tune in to this new pace of language. It was near impossible to follow.. why isn't this clicking like it did with my new teacher friend or my wife and her friends? I could hardly pick out what most of everyone was saying. Just a glimmer of words here and there. Conversations as you'd expect at a family wedding, full to the brim with "Remember that time you fell off your bike and broke your arm..." OR "Aunty Sallies got a new place closer to town now..." quotes..except all in a new language. 

To be honest, it was incredibly disheartening at first. Being in a position where you can't communicate, or express yourself is an isolating feeling. It's like going back to your first day at kindergarten, except you're the only one wearing a batman costume and the kids are all talking about fine red wines, marriage and their latest brilliant business idea. There's no room for cool. You're just the foreigner ...in the batman costume. 

The happy couples first dance - they broke out into dance for about 8 different songs, including some Michael Jackson. INCREDIBLE!

I almost began to take pity on myself after all this hard work, yet still not being at the level i'd hoped for. Fail. But then I decided on something that felt a little out of character, yet completely liberating. I cut myself some slack. Because I can honestly say i'm trying. I pushed myself with this two month challenge of getting down basic conversational fluency and it's taught me more than just the beginnings of a new language. 

I learned that you almost can become obsessed with learning. You have to concentrate at all times when someone is talking so you can tune in and pick out any words that sound familiar. You get good at laughing when other people laugh in social situations, even though you haven't any clue what the fuss is all about and you also get used to being the guy those very same people are laughing at. There's a continuos stream of new words to add to the MUST REMEMBER list, all in a brand new order, with the right conjugation, gender and case(In German) and with an entirely new way of moving your mouth. You have to think like a german. Get into their skin. It can be isolating, humbling and exhilarating and all in that order. But most of all, i recognized i need to be more patient with this whole learning process. I realize i was a little naive to turn up to a country and expect that two months of hard work will put me in the same class as someone who has spoken it since birth. That time will come i hope.

Bis jetzt, kann ich ganz gut Brot oder Kaffee bestellen, fragen wie man zum beispiel zur Oranienburger Straße kommt, Haarschnitte buchen...mit die Friseur reden, mit die Grosseltern von meine Frau sprechen über Gemuse Garten oder Wie Man eine Ente haut, oder reden mit ein freund über was hab ich gemacht im wochenende, alles in ein andere Sprache.  Kleine erfolgen, aber meines.

As I sat mulling over my language learning journey thus far on the train home from the wedding, i heard a kid learning english with his mum on the seat parallel to us. He was using some app on his phone where you write some words and a ridiculous female robot voice reads it out loud. The robot voice read out his latest entry "My name is Francis and my mum is a stupid" he was in fits of laughter. Reveling in every second of his clever new English sentence. I gotta confess, i couldn't help cracking up myself. Even the "Stupid mum" had a laugh. It wasn't the disrespect to mother part, not cool young man, but that natural ability to just have fun with learning that i loved. There's the old saying that children learn quicker as their brains are still developing and that the older you get, the harder it is to learn a new language. I like to think maybe it's less the science of it all and more a mentality, because as you get older it's easy to become more stubborn in your approach to learning. The clever adult sometimes thinks it's ok to leave the spontaneity and creativity for the playground.

So before i begin my course, i'm turning the language learning intensive down a notch. I'm more determined than ever to take this language to the next level, I'm not giving up. But I'm taking a breath before i plunge back into the coalface. My new approach will be trying to give more rope to the curious and the childish and learning with less worry at the wheel. 

Warm Regards

#german language #learning #berlin #wedding #jinja safari #germany

[berlinandback-blog]

Berlins seedy underground office life!

Recommended Music you should turn up loud and listen to with headphones Animal Kingdom - Strange Attractor

Clink Clink! Hear hear I have some news to share! The Germans have officially granted me permission to stay in their country! I've been granted a Familien Zusammenfuhrungs Visum(Family reunion visa) on the basis of my recent marriage to a german beauty. It means that i can now legally work and live in germany as long as i pass an A1 Level test in Basic German knowledge. Or so I thought. That is until i discovered that i'm obliged to complete an 8 month language integration course. Cough cough. Excuse me sir, let me just have a look here..ahm.. yeh look that wasnt in my itinerary? But...there's always a but right? Yet again, i'm reminded that life would be all too cinematic without being thrown a healthy dose of that unpredictable + uncomfortable curve ball.

I'll give you a snappy run down of the events that led to this latest fork in the road. 

To apply for my visa, I went in to the Ausländerbehörde(Immigration Office), picked a waiting number and perched myself on a lovely wooden seat for three bum numbing hours in anticipation for my number to be called. If you would allow me to ravage your imagination for a brief moment in time and set the scene, my view for these three hours can best be described as a long, dark and depressingly desolate corridor. Scrap that,here's a real life photo I found time to snap...

But what really put my stomach in knots, was the haunting familiarities this scene had to my previous office life. The walls were a familiar shade of luscious lime green and at the very end of the corridor was an old photo copier (Stoutly assembled in the late 80’s era) As fate would have it, it also played that same intermittent creaking soundtrack i so vividly remember from my time acting in the office. It resembled a scene out of Gremlins, right before the pesky little green critters begin to smash their way through the air vents. 

The scene was set and unfortunately the climax to this nightmare was still waiting for me behind these lifeless corridor walls. My number was finally called and I made my way to greet the woman who would potentially approve my stay here in Germany. As I stepped through the double doors and into "Raum #219", I was absolutely mortified by what i saw. 

There sat the lady who was going to process my visa and her desk was LITTERED with fake pot plants. I'm talking absolutely f$&@*## bombarded.. by an estimate of close to 10 pot plants clustered around her like some sort of heart wrenching oasis. I had to fake a cough as i instinctively gasped in horror. There was no need for a second opinion on this woman doc, the pot plant oasis was all the evidence needed. This poor lass had all the hallmarks of a pathological hoarder. Her attic was crammed, compacted and ready to blow. Was i the last english speaking immigrant to push her over the edge of insanity?!!

Thankfully my fears quickly subsided as i caught sight of a of giant Bon Jovi poster hanging on the wall behind her desk. As i continued to gaze around the room, I could see that she had plenty more Bon Jovi as well as Harley Davidson memorabilia scattered all over her walls. It's not worth a debate, if there’s one guy strong enough to bandage the wounds of complacency..it’s gots to be heart throb Jovi. 

I took my seat and waited for my cue. I had a few german lines up my sleeve to use in prep of events. You know, such lines as "Hi, good to meet you" "Yes, I'd like to apply for my Visa please" "Oh thanks for letting me stay in your country" and such. But they served me no purpose in the dragons den. This charming employee preferred to skip the pleasantries alright. She had a look of absolute exhaustion, hunched over her desk, with a facial expression that looked familiar... but i just couldn't quite put my finger on it. An expression best described as a person who had just been busted drink driving at a checkpoint and was resentfully pretending not to listen as she was read her rights by the officer in charge. Still with me?

Her opening question to break the ice was "Was ist Deine Größe?" I'll be honest, i thought she was talking to one of her pot plants at first. She was barely audible and she didn't move an inch from her "slumped over desk pose." After no response from me, she quickly switched to speaking in english, a little louder this time = "How tall are you?" Ah geez not this again. To try and gain the upper hand, i told her my height back in german. Uh ha!  But she immediately put me back into my gorilla speaking play pen by asking every remaining question in english. Humm.

After giving them my fingerprints for keeps, she pulled out the stamp i’d been waiting for and as it slammed down on the final document, i let the wind rush out of my lungs in a sigh of inexplicable relief. I’m legitimate!

Well. There's a catch. You see, in the NZ version of the Visa application it says that I need a basic level of German knowledge of A1 level. In simple hebrews terms; enough to say my name, where I come from and my address. But i'll have to go back and check the fine print because it seems they missed out the part "Bon Jovis number one fan will issue you with a document which enforces you go to a school 5 times a week, Monday-Friday for 8 months." Grand.  

I'll be frank with you, This wasn't in my script. But then again, it's these exact curve balls i should expect if i want to truly embrace the vulnerable innit? Hey now it's not all doom and gloom. I could take courses in the mornings which would give me the rest of the day for my creative pursuits and as far as i can see the government covers costs. So i don't want to come across ungrateful, BUT i'm also not willing to be hoarded into another "one size fits all" learning routine. I'm pursuing an adventure and i'd be far too naive if i didn't ask a bit more of the "Is this actually worthwhile??" 

So nope, I'm not diving into anything just yet. I'm taking a deep breath and weighing up my options before i chose left or right. I just found a learning school called Berlitz that seems to have the best reputation for using a more creative and modern approach to teaching = Bitta Fun in the learning process perhaps old chap? I've booked an appointment for this coming tuesday to go and sit an Einstufungs test. The test basically gives an indication as to what level my German is currently at. Ape vs Babbling baby? We shall see, but the more i can impress them, the higher the class and the shorter amount of hours I would have to complete. Well then, I better quit typing and get back to üben(practice) hey!?

Wish me luck!

Kind regards

#A1 level test #Ausländerbehörde #berlin #bon jovi #gremlins #integration course #new zealand #nz #office life #berlitz #einstüfungs test

[berlinandback-blog]

Discipline Vs Enjoyment

Recommended Music you should turn up loud and listen to with headphones - Van She - M83 Remix

As i finally begin to settle into some sort of ..eehhm..well “normality” here in Berlin, I’ve noticed a faint feeling of unrest crawling it’s way into my peripheral vision again. Hang on, this wasn’t in the script?! I've reached Berlin now after all and there's no longer a desk full of fake pot plants to gawk at, no weekly spreadsheet reports to staple and the intermittent creak of the photocopier has been drowned out by my very own, soul quenching music playlist! Surely this is the part where i ride off into the hazy sunset on a donkey or something and live happily ever after in my castle of shackle free liberation? But as fate would have it, that ending would be far too predictable. Not to mention boring! This first month in Europe has honestly been such an adrenaline buzz of wonder and excitement travelling through Hong Kong, Italy and then finally making it to destination Berlin. I've felt myself slowly peeling off the layers of routine and self inflicted deadlines and beginning to let go of all the clutter I'd been storing in that basement of mine. The unrest then? Well I've caught myself slipping terrets like between chilled out holiday mode guy.. to slapping myself back into a fearfully disciplined “Stop relaxing grease monkey or else you’ll lose momentum and waste.all.your.time!!” I identified this cocky bozo i’d just encountered as discipline. The jerk knocks on your door rudely unannounced and slips out the back door with a doggy bag just as abruptly. One of the main motivations for finally quitting my job back in New Zealand, was the realization that i didn’t want to continue a life of just ticking boxes. Fighting off complacency with a morning coffee, all for the short term satisfaction of a secure and reliable income. So i gots to thinking i did. I wonder what role enjoyment and discipline play in this new future of mine? Can they co-exist? Is there any such thing as balance? After all, didn't I begin this journey in pursuit of an adventure? And aren't adventures supposed to be FUN sirrrr !? Oh and one final demanding question. Why was I so fearful of taking some time out and allowing myself to relax for a stint huh? My conflict = I didn’t just move over to the other side of the world to have a one stop hella crazy year of adventure and then put that memoir on ice,(although the hella crazy adventure is still on!) only to return and hunker down to my former stagnant self. I’m in this for the long haul and in this new direction I see many pursuits and ambitions that i want to call my own. But i'm also convinced that working myself into an overwhelming, self critical “kick my own ass” beat up is a step in the wrong direction.   So. To put this in Web 2.0, some of my short term ambitions amount to - Learn a new language(In 2 months) + finish off writing at least an albums worth of songs for both solo & band projects + record new tracks for an official release + continuing to write blogs and document my story + begin securing shows/gigs within berlin + secure a music publishing deal + start up an online upcycling bow tie/accessories company with my wife(which means learning more about website development, marketing, advertising and all the rest of that bizzo!) = TIME. PERSEVERANCE. WORK. TOLERANCE OF INSANITY!... not to mention, all of which are suspended by the ultimate vision of an ongoing and ever curious discovery for more blood pumping creative outlets and ideas so i can earn enough dosh to survive and happily keep the stapler and fake pot plant in their rightful place.(Dennis in accounts desk thank-youuu!) The immediate and sometimes debilitating questions that swirl in my head are; Am i biting off more than i can chew? Do i have enough time for all this? Is this realistic? How realistic do i want to be? Because on the other hand, when i think about it, truthfully, every success(what I consider my successes) that i’ve ever achieved in life have only come abouts after i allowed my imagination to take the lead and fused this with a determined belief that i wouldn’t stop trying until i had explored all avenues of possibility and got what i set out for. So then, on that basis, the merrymaking of imagination, coupled with the discipline of determination does have some sort of strange interlocked relationship. Yes ok..that doesn’t mean i can use my imagination to magically change traffic lights to green and stuff. (perhaps more on that exciting topic in another post!) I’ll willingly admit first and foremost though, that I’m a dreamer. A hopeless romantic, always have, always will be. These days, i embrace that. But maybe that playful imagination does need to have boundaries sometimes, to actually put ideas to paper. I’m slowly nursing old wounds of my neglected creativity back to good health and What I did learn from my time acting in the office, Is that creativity shouldn't be whipped and moulded into a relentless schedule of "things to get done." Creativity shouldn’t be treated like your grocery list as you tick everything off in the correct order. Sometimes in this fast paced world it becomes difficult. But time and time again, i’m reminded of the importance of knowing when to silence that persistent, fearful voice of discipline and to give myself permission to actually enjoy the rush of being creative. Because i think it deserves more respect than that. It takes time, patience and commitment to cultivate the truthful and inspiring, to spill your guts into something that is uniquely you. But it’s totally worth it in my opinion. So this week. I’m going to experiment with allowing time to leave that fearfully busy, fast paced lunatic behind for a bit and take more time to create.. This also means i should probably go ahead and accept that both discipline AND enjoyment hold their place if i allow them to co create - One is immediate gratification, the other you have to work like an animal for - but they both ultimately pull you in the creative direction you want to go. On a final note. Language. More specifically The German one. Pleased to report to class that my lessons in language are coming along nicely. The other day i was chatting to a native berliner(Still in english unfortunately) about hong kong and i casually asked her what the word for “Asian” is in german. “Asiaten” she said. “Uh huh, got it.” As the conversation continued, a few other people joined in with their two cents and then i found a perfect opportunity to show off this new word, but my memory decided to throw me under the bus as I stuttered “Assitit" Translation to german= White Trash Tit. I got laughed at, big time. Humiliated. Not just by one, but ..at least two germans. All in good fun of course. Lesson learned. Let me tell you - humiliation is the by far the BEST(most humbling) way to remember mistakes! Fullstop. I’ll not be making that same mistake twice, PLUS who knows when i might just come across a white trash tit who needs to be called out! Kind Regards

#berlin #creative #creativity #discipline #enjoyment #german language #germany #hughes #humiliation #language #learning #new zealand #quitting my job #m83

[berlinandback-blog]

Hello Berlin!

I open my eyes and swing my legs slowly down to the side of the bed. Where am i? What time is it? This isn’t important right now. I feel an overwhelming sense of urgency consume me as i rush straight towards the balcony, swing open both doors, pick up the straw woven hat hanging conveniently over the balcony rail and begin dancing as i chant “Umm mumm buyyy a ehhh” ..hang on.. i’m in the nude. I don’t care man! I’m suddenly aware that i’m not alone as i gaze google eyed out into the surrounding grey jungle of apartments below. Everyone has joined me on their adjacent balconies, each with their own personalized straw hats and they’re all chanting and dancing merrily in unison with me.. in the nude!! I’ve never felt such freedom!

As i continue to jump and prance around without a care in the world, I’m suddenly jolted into a hazy thick blackness. I open my eyes. A dream..? I slowly swing my legs down to the side of the bed. Where am I? What time is it? This isn’t important right now. I make my way over to the balcony. Hang on. I’m suddenly conscious that i’m wearing shorts. Disappointed, i burst open the balcony doors and step out. The concrete jungle that greets me outside looks familiar, but there’s no straw hat to be seen hanging from the balcony rail and everyone below appears to be casually wearing clothes. My disappointment is quickly defeated by the realisation of where i am. I’m in Berlin.

That dream was a little strange, but I guess my imagination is finally getting the jump start it was craving! 

When i look back on the last few months of my life, so many events have unfolded in such a short window of time and they’ve all blended intricately into one giant mongrel of a story, which has ultimately landed me here in Berlin.

It goes something like = I’ve sold all my possessions + quit my stable job + got married to an absolute beauty + accepted vulnerability + said goodbye to a desk full of fake pot plants and staplers! + moved to a foreign country on the other side of the world = Hello berlin! Here i am now in my temporary apartment in Prenzlauer berg. Three weeks ago I jumped on a plane along with my wife and brother - who have also accepted the pursuit of adventure with me. We had 2 days stopover in Hong Kong where we navigated our way through wontons and sloppy tofu with bacon bits for breakfast, to a seriously friendly indian immigrant trying to sell me “a lovely suit only for yous i make” at EVERY corner. My new adventure has begun and it was a peculiar feeling after finally touching down in german soil.

I had my first taste of german hospitality at Berlin security control. As we approached the airport scanner we were greeted by ten impeccably dressed security control officers. Yehhh..ten officers even though it was early morning and we were the only three people to be seen within a 5mile radius(how’s that for efficiency?) I’m fairly certain i saw a smirk fire up on every one of their faces as soon as they saw us approach their territory, And i can only assume as they rallied the team together that their internal dialogue went something like “JACKPOT!..vvinally tree lout moutz americanz zat vee can have zum fun wiz”(excuse my feeble attempt at spelling a germans internal dialogue accent, i’m out of practice) I remember thinking all wiseguy like “Yes boys! What a perfect opportunity to practice some german!” A stern looking man about the size of andre the giant initiated the game by barking something to me in german as fast as his lips would demand. I immediately slipped into panic mode, retreating like a little school girl **stolen from dennis in accounts** overwhelmed by his incredibly abrasive tone. Every german word i had previously learned, fell to the wayside as i instinctively resigned to mumbling what can only be described as... “Germlish?” Next came the hand gestures and when he realized there were no lights bulbs firing here son, he simply responded “English?” Maaan I hate it when that happens...my cover was blown, i’d failed to blend in and had only been in the country 5 minutes! After finally making it to the other side, i realized they were only just beginning to have their fun..our bags hadn’t quite made the journey through detection. They were clearly here to do some “work” and we wouldn’t be breezing through these gates anytime soon ladies and gents. After some pausing and backwards and forwards with our bags through the detector,(never a good sign) my brother and i were both pulled aside and before we knew it, we were in the back security room with drug swab tests being taken left right centre.

I kept a close eye on the short stumpy guy in the corner of the room with a suspiciously well manicured moustache  - he had a slippery look about him - to make sure he didn’t make a grab for some rubber gloves. After many more hand gestures, attempts at broken german and some frighteningly serious expressions leering over us, we made it out of customs. As straight faced as they were during the performance though, i’m damn sure they burst out into fits of laughter once we left. “zose patetic amerecaan loud moutz foolz vere shittin zere pantz.” So here i am. Finally in the motherland. After spending a week in my wifes home village Wangelin (with a population of around 50 peps) riding bikes and exploring the lakes, then another two weeks roadtripping in Italy - drinking fine wine and demolishing plate after plate of..well..just  the best tasting pasta on this giddy good green earth?? - i confess i’m a far cry from settling here in germany. Now it’s time to find my feet in berlin. I’ve made this bed and hot dang diggity ima lie in it. Im excited. But admittedly there are times when my mind catches up to this change my cocky “free spirit” has committed to and my stomach calls out for the clutches of comfort and familiarity as it twists and churns it’s anxiety ridden tune. But let’s lay it down here, the last 5 years have been about a comfortable routine of 9-5 work, meeting up with the same friends, frequenting the same bars and restaurants, watching the same tv shows. And while i believe routine is important and there’s many aspects i enjoyed about this period, i’ve also recognised the need for change and adventure. To escape stagnation and begin to romance my neglected ambition once again. To feel alive. So. Language. I was a little surprised after speaking with a few expats living here, that you can easily get by in Berlin speaking english and in fact it’s not uncommon. But i can’t help but feel more than a little ignorant expecting germans to speak my language.(although i know many of them are happy to practice their english) Besides, i’ve always wanted to learn another language, so how can i say this isn’t an opportunity tugging at my sleeve? First mission then? To navigate my way through learning a new language - In order to get my visa, i have to pass a basic german language test. I failed at customs, so now i’m determined to prove my german ability. Pride is on the line! I’ve also decided i need to be more ambitious in my approach to learning so I’m setting myself the goal of having basic german conversational fluency within the first 2 months. Remaining true to my new commitment of a life less conventional, i’d like to experiment with the learning process a little on my own terms and learn as many shortcuts as i can in the process. I’m currently looking into which courses might get me there fastest as well as the best online resources. But more importantly, I’m aware that to truly learn this language, i’m going to have to get out there, make thousands of mistakes and immerse myself in the culture. Let the humiliation begin! As i sat on the balcony after my slightly odd dream of dancing in a straw hat nude, I contemplated my reasons for quitting my job and making this move to Germany in the first place. It was about accepting vulnerability and embracing uncertainty. I knew it meant i’d have to take risks, screw up, fail and take rejection a million times over before i could even begin to get a glimpse of what success feels like.The irony is though, since making the decision and actually committing to it, i feel within these bones once again an overwhelming sense of certainty. A certainty that i’m doing what i should be doing. I have a purpose now even if i’m not certain of what the future holds. So i guess you could say, to find certainty, maybe you need to first accept uncertainty? Choice 

If anyone has any bright ideas or tips on the quickest way to learn a language from experience, i’d love to hear your stories! My Warmest Regards :)

Playing a ridiculously difficult drum game with my brother in an underground arcade during our Hong Kong stopover

Italy Roadtrippin in "Bologna." Mama miiiiiaaa!! Italians got the food thing in the bag son.

This is me and my hot wife in Manarola, Italy. Note how i'm making a painfully cheesy grin in this snap. It's my attempt at acting like "this is me in Italy with my hot wife and some big deal beautiful scenery in the background and i'm very happy." Although it may appear to lack sincerity i can assure you, i really was happy as lazzz!

#arriving in berlin #berlin #creative #culture #funny #germany #hope #hughes #hughes brothers #language #lifestyle #new language #new zealand #simon #simon hughes #writers #italy

[berlinandback-blog]

Let me introduce myself..

As I step out of the lime green meeting room and take a seat at my desk, I can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous scenario i let myself play in to. Let me truly set the scene for you. At my desk there’s a small fake pot plant to my right and a stapler to my left. The soundtrack to complete this gripping montage is the intermittent creak of the photo copier as it kicks into gear. Yes folks, this literally sums up work life for the past 5 years. Where i was seated comfortably in my office chair, earning a comfortable salary, updating comfortable spreadsheets and sipping comforting coffee. But the ironic thing is, i was anything BUT comfortable. Subconsciously, over the last few years of routine, i set about the simple but destructive task of cramming every hope, dream and aspiration into a suitcase and placed it securely in the attic. With the intention of pulling it out when i felt it was the right “time.”  But as it steadily grew in size,  i ignored every nagging cause for alarm. Instead, i just vacuum packed yet another deflated aspiration before cramming it conveniently in with all the rest of those “ambitions” i was hoarding. Problem was, when i was sick of this routine and pulled that suitcase from out of the attic again, I found myself confronted by a beast i think we’ve all made acquaintance with at some point in life - fear & anxiety. Or maybe more accurately - absolute, numbing, dread. Ok, so before i lose you in my metaphorically riveting tale of tragedy & regret. Here’s the dealeo = I’ve just quit my job + sold all my possessions(Except my guitar) + purchased a one way plane ticket to Berlin. I leave on that plane in 3 days. I’m about to start something new, an adventure if you will, beginning on the other side of the world.

I decided to start this blog to capture the experience of moving to a foreign country. From isolated Auckland, New Zealand to the cultural diversity of Berlin, Germany.(which pretty much holds the same population as my entire country) But i also want to write about the journey of leaving behind the security of a reliable job, the comfort of close friends and familiar surroundings - in pursuit of a more challenging, adventurous aaaaand fulfilling lifestyle. For those who know me, music has always been(and remains) my main creative voice. Now, to hang ten with 2012, I’m adding another dialogue to my story. Ok ok, i get it. I realize the idea of going after our “dreams” in life sounds like a foolishly romantic idea. To be honest, even just writing that word makes me feel...a little guilty for considering an optimistic outcome. Why is that? For me, this whole concept of going after your “dreams” in life has been thrashed, harassed and dragged through the mud of apathy just a little, thanks to the thousands of recycled one liner motivational slogans that bombard your fave tv show ..like glee, or friendship updates on your bessie facebook. ..and “the bebo.” ….anyone still with me? Yea in truth, there’s no denying, when you go after those things that matter most to you in life, it often means there’s allot to sacrifice with no immediate gratification. But for me, as i began to become complacent in my current lifestyle, i knew it was time to drop the “office” act and find resolution to that terrifying question i had been avoiding for way too long. Do i keep trying to “battle” away at my dreams and ambitions, or do i settle for a comfortable, cushy and fairly predictable future? At what point had it become a “battle” to do those things i once enjoyed in life? Why was i accepting to stay at this day job that would routinely wring all the life out of these bones? The one thing i’m sure of now, Is that i won’t settle for the in between anymore. My office job was at the extreme end of the scale as far as “Office Jobs” go. Every day was literally just like an episode out of “The Office” except my boss didn’t so much resemble Rick Gervais. Well..same slick rick hair, but his accent had less of an easy going, jovial british tone and more of a deep, throat clearing, guttural south african command to it. If there’s one sentence i came to dread over my time acting out the office scenario it was “Yea..if you could just go ahead and map that prrrrocess.” Or there was “Dennis” in accounts who would stroll past my desk and stop to tell me another one of his jokes he’d recite from some spam email he’d scavenged out of his junk email folder earlier that morning. “Ever considered stand up comedy?” I’d say through clenched teeth to help pass that painfully awkward length of time he spent lingering at my desk. There was no ad break to follow here folks. I knew that to go to work and routinely fill in every mind numbing spreadsheet, to follow every process as it’s set out before me and to put “Kind Regards”(what does that even mean?!!) at the end of every single email was a shallow existence...and if there’s one thing i’ve learned, it’s that these things have a way of catching up on us, no matter how hard we try to avoid. I’d work my 9-5 office Job and then come home and try and force myself to make up for another 8 hours of precious time wasted. But as time wore on, i eventually burnt out in this desperate struggle to hold on to both contradicting lifestyles. Bad news for me was that desperation is the arch nemesis of creativity. It’s also the arch nemesis of happiness. The meaningless wage earning job during the day left me creatively exhausted and frustrated. I could feel it taking its toll. Here i was, apparently young, free and in my twenties.(old people tell heaps that the 20’s is a pretty top rated decade in life aye) But still I felt like every single hope was slipping through cracks in my hands and I was losing all motivation for the things that were once my lifeline out of any difficult situation. I could diverse here and tell you a painfully predictable tortured artists story of how i could no longer bear the burden of uncertainty so turned to drugs and alcohol to hide this shallow existence and grew a furious, raging ginger beard to channel my bitter feelings of despair. But that’s just a cop out right? Besides.. *i’d have the beard of a 7 year old crack addict on detox. *quoted line from dennis in accounts So after getting all that out of my system,  i spent my time agonising and debating over the difference between where my current lifestyle was pulling me and where i truly wanted to be - I was ready for change so badly, but i didn’t know what that meant..i had lost all sense of direction. I finally managed to narrow it all down to two options. My fork in the road went like this; Option#1-  Choose rational - Pursue a stable career, where i earn a salary, get some snazzy perks like a carpark maybe? To heck with it, i might even find myself a job where i can slip out of my shirt and tie on “Casual Friday” and indulge in some Mufti attire! But i’d have to accept that although these “benefits” would give some level of comfort, my self worth would be forever tormented by that guy....you know the “guy” in the very back of your conscious mind with the whiny voice? (Cue dark and ominious synth) Reminding you that even if you choose the responsible, secure option, you’re destined to live a miserable, tortured existence, riddled with unforgivable regret for giving up on your dreams and forever wondering ..what if i had of just tried ...? Shit. Talk about serious. Ok then..there was Option#2? Choose instinct - This feels a bit more familiar = Commit to chasing after those dreams and aspirations which allow a more creatively fulfilling lifestyle. Accepting that i’d have to take risks, screw up, fail and take rejection a million times over before i could even begin to get a glimpse of what success feels like. It was at this point that i stopped dead in my tracks. Why was i even asking this question? Why did i suddenly feel the need to debate, agonise and rationalize over making the perfect choice and painfully dissect it through this complex magnifying glass of mine? Because the thing is, i already knew what i wanted. Simple. I also had absolutely no motivation to stay in this secure bubble. But why was i suddenly considering this option of security? When did it creep into the scene and pretend like it was worthy of a second glance? One word seemed sum up all of these fears. Vulnerability. I remember after suddenly recognising this, i had this familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach like i’d just been suckerpunched with one of those aha! moments. The same kinda feeling i get after a breakthrough with a song idea. There it was. Over the course of pushing through the monotony of my dead end job, i got way too comfortable with being uncomfortable and instead of resisting, i let myself get swept into the current of complacency. In this rapid current, it became normal to stop being curious, stop asking questions and just keep pushing on through, with the belief that one day, if i worked hard enough, saved enough money,  i might crack the code and there might be some great saving epiphany, just be patient. But the truth is, nothing was going to change unless i could cut ties with certainty and accept vulnerability again. Growing up, i was lucky enough to have parents who always taught me to pursue the things that i was passionate about in life rather than pushing me into their own personal agenda. But it seems like sometimes in our rush to grow up, we start adopting all these rules we learn from everyone else around us on how to be successful, secure and happy. It almost becomes a formula, based on some idealistic lifestyle. It’s our attempt to at least appear like we’ve got things all figured out. You know the story, the house, car, “wifey hubby” & money. Sorted.

This mindset is put to the test more than ever as we grow up into adult life and are forced to face the realities of a more complex world.  But sometimes, it’s almost like we can forget that magic of experimenting with our own free will. Guilty. I forgot what it is to use my imagination. Fact is though, i’m not willing to be that guy you see on the bus at 8am heading to work with an expression that can only be described as a cow heading to the slaughter. The reality is, he knows without any doubt what’s waiting for him at the end of that bus ride.. it’s the same as yesterday and the day before and before... That’s kind of what gives me assurance anytime i feel that uneasiness kick in before taking a leap into unknown territory. Before i go any further though, let me steer this blog back on course..because i’m trying to spill some guts here, not to rub my hands together smugly, self assured, pretending like i’ve suddenly got this whole life and success formula figured out. I can carefully construct every whimsical cliche at the ready. But truthfully, i need put in this disclaimer for all future purposes; I’m shit scared about what comes next in this chapter of life. I know that’s a pretty.. not so cool or self assured way of putting it.. but i recognise now that if it’s change you’re after, then you gotta embrace vulnerability and it’s close chum humility with open arms. Cause it seems to me like, we all crave a certain future. But once you peel all those protective layers off and get under the surface, it’s continuous change & adventure that truly makes us feel alive. That to me is worth embracing. So in this next chapter of life, it’s time for me to lose the pot plant and stapler - to rediscover those ambitions, passions & talents i’ve been putting on the back burner. I’m going to begin this journey in Berlin.

I’m moving to a brand new country where everything is foreign, leaving behind old friends, favourite hangouts and familiarity because i’m embracing change, growth and diversity in life. And I suddenly realize, even though i’m making this dramatic call for change, there’s no guarantee it’s the right one. There’s no guarantee i’ll be successful. Hang on..have i thought this through rationally? Nope and it feels great! It feels right. This is a year of exploration. To take more risks + relearn recklessness + fire up that imagination + make heaps & heaps of mistakes + learn + become my own boss + write + meet new people + create music + share music + make new german mates + learn to speak german + learn german humour? + make even more mistakes + LEARN.. because it’s high time i drop this “baggage” i’ve been storing in the attic and take a leap of faith. I’m going on an adventure, in pursuit of a life less ordinary. After all, what have i got to lose? Just a fake pot plant and stapler for now.... so i’ll see you in Berlin. Tschus!!!

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I hope you can be a part of my journey, so don't be a dang stranger and follow my tumblr or leave a comment, or better still...pay me a visit to Berlin sucker! Muchos

#berlin #travel #new zealand #lifestyle #simon hughes #office job #slice of life #quit your job #moving country #language #germany