MOVING HURTS

AT LEAST AT FIRST...

Standing in line at airport security, I watched as the two most important people in my life walked away. A emptiness swelled up from my stomach overtaking my chest, my heart, my throat and forcing water to my eyes. How is it that being empty can fill me up so? I was leaving my sons behind as I moved onto begin a new life for me, for us in Germany.

Weeks earlier weighed down by my final list of things to do, I had no time to be sad. No time to miss friends, even as I bumped into them intentionally and not. Too much to think about. I think life is often like this, my head keeping me so busy, my head controlling all the internal conversation so that my heart hardly ever gets a word in edge-wise. (By the way what is "edge-wise"?).

Lucky for me two weeks before I left, I went on a weekend retreat where I could not do any of my do's. And in walking away from my do's and being close to some I love, my heart finally won out. All that I kept inside, all that was "real" - at least to my heart came bubbling out. No that really isn't true. It came spewing out, like a bad case of projectile vomit. An unlike vomit, it felt good, even amid the sad. My heart has a place in my life - one I want to honor more often, but I often find it easier to think than to feel.

In fact my thinker is quite sneaky and often when I try to let my heart speak, he steps in like a ventriloquist and again takes over the conversation. I am worried (my heart is saying), but the words that come out are "I feel like I might be making a bad choice." Which if you look closer, there aren't any feelings in this statement.

I don't know about you, but for me, I have to be on guard for my thinker. He is a control freak. Don't get me wrong, I quite like him - he does a bit of good, but he doesn't like sharing the stage, so I must be on guard. Why is this important to me?

My heart tells me what is real? What is going on inside of me? My thinker, he is kind of like my press agent, putting good spin on it, explaining it, etc. etc. And so in all this reporting about what is going on, I don't get to quite touch the actual going on. Put it like this, I'd much rather eat the meal at a restaurant, than read the review. And I think (yes think) that most people are living in this world of reading reviews of their feelings than actually experiencing themselves. This makes me sad, too.

So anyway I digress, what all this taught me is that moving hurts. I lost the freedom and space to be with my friends. I lost the access to a home I love, a refuge. I lost the familiar rhythums of my life. This hurts and I am sad.

And I come to a new place, Munchen. Even in my sadness there is a kernel of hope a sense of adventure and pride in my courage. Wow that's a lot of feelings. Maybe this is why my thinker doesn't let my heart speak. My heart is messy, not black and white. He creates these images more like a big stew or ghoulash. Ever try to dissect a ghoulash.

My first week in Munchen I learned in more than one way how moving hurts. One of the things I love about being here is movement. I walked more in my first week here than I did I think in the past six months combined. WOW! I realized that the major part of my daily exercise was walking to and from my car, which was hardly ever parked more than a block away. In Munchen, I have no car, so I walked and walked and walked and walked. And my calves began to burn.

Another thing I love about here, about Europe is the bathtubs - big, deep and long. Good size for a tall dad. So that first week I also bathed alot. Saturday I took 2. And just as my calves were beginning to face the fact that they needed to quit whining and just deal with it, I bought a bike.

Now we're talking. I was suddenly rich as I my sphere of mobility and access greatly increased and my calves rejoiced...and my buttocks took over the whining.

Six weeks into my adventure, my calves and butt are fine. My waist has dropped a few inches from my daily 30 minute commute and moving hurts less. I still miss my friends, I still wish to see them, but just like my calves and my butt, the throbbing has diminished. And in just two more weeks, my family will be reunited.

"Heart, you can take it from here."

Heart: I am excited!