I'm writing this post as part of Katja Schoonbergen's blog parade on the topic "What do you plan to do with that?". You can find the call for the blog parade here:
https://schoonbergen.online/was-willst-du-denn-damit-mal-machen/
"What do you plan to do with that?"
I still remember that moment clearly.
My first husband had passed away. Corona had the world in its grip. Everything felt heavy. The streets were empty, people kept their distance, and I felt more alone than ever before.
It was precisely during this time that I began learning the accordion.
"What do you plan to do with that?", I was asked.
My answer was: "I don't know."
What I actually wanted to say, I kept to myself.
To be happy.
But happiness was somehow unpopular back then. While everyone was talking about illness, restrictions, and uncertainty, it felt almost inappropriate to say that I was simply looking for something that was good for my soul.
So I said nothing.
And today, when I think back to that time, I have to smile.
Because who would have thought back then that a few years later I would be married to my accordion teacher and emigrating to Denmark with him?
Life really does write the most beautiful stories. But usually only in hindsight.
Does everything really need to have a purpose?
When I think about it today, we encounter this question constantly.
What do you plan to do with that?
Almost as if every decision had to pursue a clear goal immediately.
A hobby should ideally make money someday.
A further education should pay off professionally.
A new language should have practical value.
And even a move is often only accepted once you can explain it logically.
But in doing so, we forget something essential.
Not everything we begin has to serve a purpose right away.
Some things are simply allowed to bring joy.
Some things are allowed to give us hope.
And some things begin as small ideas, without us knowing what doors they might open one day.
In hindsight, everything suddenly makes sense
Long before I emigrated to Denmark, I loved writing.
As a child and teenager, I devoured books and loved stories. Later, I began writing myself. But as life sometimes goes, there was barely time for it in everyday life.
Yet this desire never quite let go of me.
Eventually, I could imagine myself sitting in a small house in Denmark in my mind's eye. With a view of green fields. Time to write. Maybe even a book someday.
It was nothing more than that back then.
An image.
A dream.
When we finally emigrated to Denmark, no book came into being at first.
Instead, a blog was created.
Really just for family and friends in Germany. I wanted to document our emigration, tell what we experienced, what challenges there were, and why this country had captured our hearts so.
A few stories turned into more and more.
And at some point I realized how much I had missed writing.
Not because I wanted to achieve something with it.
But because I found myself in it.
Telling stories in different ways
Some time later, I became a tour guide.
If I'm honest, I would never have planned that either.
But the longer I think about it, the more I believe that this path had to suit me perfectly.
I love telling stories.
I take people with me.
I inspire them with a country that I love myself.
Whether I'm leading people through the dunes of North Jutland or writing a blog post, I'm really always doing the same thing.
I'm telling stories.
Stories about Denmark.
Stories about people.
Stories about life.
Maybe that was always embedded in me.
I just couldn't recognize it myself for many years.
Not every path is straight
There's one more thing that has accompanied me my whole life.
I'm a straightforward person.
I try to be honest.
I say what I think.
Not to offend others, but because I believe that truthfulness is a great good.
That doesn't always make me comfortable.
I rub people the wrong way.
Sometimes people wish for more diplomatic answers.
Sometimes it would be easier to conform.
But I've learned that I would have to bend myself out of shape for that.
And that's exactly what I don't want to do.
I believe everyone pays a price eventually.
Either for standing by yourself.
Or for losing yourself.
I've decided to stand by myself instead.
My answer today to this post in the blog parade:
If someone asked me today:
"What do you plan to do with that?"
Then I would probably smile and answer:
Maybe nothing at all.
Maybe I don't need to know where something leads.
Maybe it's enough that it feels right today.
Because the most beautiful things in my life were never planned down to the last detail.
They happened because I was willing to take the next step.
Without knowing the entire path.
You don't have to know where your path leads. What's much more important is trusting yourself, accepting yourself, and walking your own path. The rest usually becomes clear only in hindsight.
