Somewhere in Moravia
Sometime in January 2020
That day, my boss was looking for a snack he already ate. My colleague forgot our repre-card in the company cafeteria, where she discussed technical issues over cappuccinos with our supplier. While driving to work, I accidentally took a wrong turn. Our minds simply wander. Where? I think where we feel good.
My brother, being about 8 years old, set out one afternoon on foot from where we lived back then to where my grandparents lived. It was many kilometers apart. The road led through woods. He did not tell anyone. I understand him. Once we feel the calling, it is difficult to explain in words the bundle of emotions and feelings sitting in our chest und producing the soda bubbles making us dizzy, making us set out on a Journey. Some call it a pilgrimage. I call it walking where we feel good. On foot, as well as in our mind.
I still remember that view. My small brother walking on the side of the road. Determined. Knowing what he is doing. I knew he knew. I do not remember how my mother managed to track him down, though she simply did. Only mothers can do that. There were no mobiles back then, hardly fixed phones in Czech households at that time.
My brother kept on setting to Journeys. Once, without asking he took my mum’s boyfriend car and drove with some friends to ice hockey match in Pilsen. He left the note in my parrot’s food, as he knew, every morning I would feed our pet. The boyfriend of my mum, one of my almost second dads, was cool about it. He was generally a cool guy. He used to say no need to wash a car as it gets dirty again. I have been missing the energy lately to wash my Nissan Micra dirty from all my off-roads in nearby fields and forest, where I stop shortly after work.
A few days ago, I drove to where my grandparents used to live, where my brother set out on foot as a little boy. Do you also have those epicenters of people, places, things…and trees, where you were modeled and made and where strong memories lay? The heat of the epicenters seems to never fully fade, making us return.
Despite unannounced, my uncle and his girlfriend welcomed me heartily, offered tea, snack and gave me the tour of the house. Proud tour. I was amazed! The exterior was completely new, the interior was the mixture of Provance Cottage and 1950 Czech Villa.
“Did you know děda could not even hammer a nail? Whatever he did, he would injure himself,” my uncle laughed, while standing on the chair, installing the lights. I recalled děda was missing some fingers from trying to cut some wood on circular saw once.
People loved my grandfather, not so my grandmother. Yet, I feel deep respect for her. Can you imagine running a household of 3 kids, house and a garden, piece of field, chickens, and rabbits, and still be full time employed? And to top it all, to have a husband who is off for work a lot and can’t really hammer a nail? She was a family manager without ever applying for the position. It just turned out to be so.
Being a manager might feel lonely. You sit there, alone, in your big glass office, as my grandma sits now in front of the big glass window of my uncle’s flat overlooking the town, waiting for someone to come for a visit. She cannot anymore walk where she feels good on foot. She is too old for that.
I have still enough powers to walk where I feel good. So when sitting in my boss’s office with three other managers, and realizing the meeting should be over now, I waved at my colleague in the other office that I will join her for lunch. So when the managers felt like prolonging the meeting over the lunch break, I felt like standing up and going for a lunch with my colleague.
I walked where and with whom I feel good.
Where do you wander to feel good?