It has been a year.
Since my whole blog was set up to trick my mind into any other activity than hurting me constantly while surviving the gray months or years of the pandemic, I thought about writing something for this weird anniversary, but also was not sure about it being too much, maybe.
Today sirens woke me up. I did not know of a drill but thought it would most likely be one. I was right (I guess).
I had my first coffee before noon and played the violin for two hours, and my unicorn and my astrological skull have been listening. I am a witch now.
I then had the normal problems of reaching all the children I had to teach for their afternoon-online-lessons. My blog had an average day with 27 views from 14 visitors and 6 likes.
A year ago, I could not have imagined a Wednesday to be like this.
Oh, it was a Thursday … Right?
A year ago, I was really busy.
I had started a new job and was working full time while also preparing for my very last exams (that I still have not finished yet, because of everything).
A year ago, I was sleep deprived and had a cold.
These were the last days of my old life.
March the 11th, the 12th and Friday the 13th.
Busy doing things that mattered to me, still finding the time for a little adventure and little time with friends in between.
I remember last conversations and last train rides, never knowing those were the last.
The day that really made me understand how serious things were was probably Monday the 16th, when both my jobs had been canceled and the borders around Germany were closing one after the other, putting so many people I cared about a whole world away.
There it started that all I had left was trying to breathe and walking around empty fields in too intense and melancholic golden sunrise of early spring.
And now?
By now, I know that I cannot continue with my old life.
Too much has happened and I have too many things to say to this world.
I have new things to do, once I can.
After all, my witching visitor has been teaching me this for over a year. She proudly opens up another bottle of wine, while I am typing this. We are still trying to work out the novel about her witching life in the 17th century!
Sometimes I still get terribly homesick, so here is an impression of a place I have to go to from time to time for my soul to catch itself.
I hope that some day I will be able to do so again.
I took these almost two years ago. In 2019, when visiting my mother as I always used to do in summer. I cannot believe I took them. The world feels so different through them.
Mistress witch writes 