Early Morning Bus Stops and Going Through It

“You’ve got to go through it, Tony.”

The sun was well into the sky as I walked down the street to the bus stop at 6:25am. I walked up to the bus driver, and asked if it was ok if I boarded. He obliged, and I found my way to a seat that would take me across the countryside into the middle of Bavaria. The seat next to me sat empty. The entire bus sat empty.

An adventure in a new city, in a new state, without the aid of a companion. How is this even happening? Wasn’t it just last week that I was hiding in the basement because I was afraid to have another conversation in this strange world I’ve landed in?

Did I speak English or German with the bus driver? It’s not very clear in my head which language is which these days. I just remember that I talked with him… I think he had a Russian accent. He seemed nice enough to me. I’m glad I got to see him.

I was given a day off. I needed to take a day off. There is too much happening for me not to take some time in a different rhythm. If I stayed in Tübingen, I would end up seeing people I know and probably default back into my work… no… I needed to leave. This was not an imperative born out courage, but out of some psycho-biological clock that just knew it was time to leave.

He did a good job, my Russian-German bus driver. Rolling over the plateau to the low mountain on the Autobahn, we made our way toward Munich. He would be there 8 hours later, waiting to take me back to Tübingen. Enough time for me to learn a new subway system, see some astounding artwork, and question my perspective on perception… oh, and find a Starbucks too.

Why wasn’t this decision born out of courage? I thought that’s how it worked… that you conquered fear and then conquered the world. Why is it, then, that I took my fear with me and my Russian friend?

“You’ve got to go through it, Tony.” Traci’s words ring in my head. “You can’t go around it. You can’t go above it. You’ve got to go through it.”

The order of all of this doesn’t quite make sense to me. I wish that I could change the way character development happens in me. I wish I could change the ways that fear and love and joy and sadness rule my life. I wish I could change the process of adjustment and the way that my personality responded to change.

Maybe that’d be too easy. Maybe I’d miss something along the way.

I know that some days you wake up and you know that it’s time to keep going forward. It doesn’t matter if it makes sense, if it’s easy or hard. It matters that you get out of bed and walk to the bus stop.

Because when you get out bed, you live into something more than.  When you walk to the bus stop, you make room for grace.

Still Wandering,

Tony

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