Vienna, Austria circa 1987. I had just graduated from college and was alive with the excitement of exploring the world. My brother had been living in this breathtakingly beautiful city for several years and I missed him. He was acting in an English-speaking movie starring Ben Kingsley and I got to hang out on the set and even got a day’s wages as an extra playing a Russian peasant in the film. Warren met his girlfriend, who would later become his wife, on set. She had the good fortune to be a Russian peasant too.
I learned a lot over that summer and what would become my extended stay. You see, my brother was newly in love and busy. He moved in with his lady-love and left me to fend for myself in his cold-water flat. In 1987 there was no Skype, no Blackberry, no cell phones. There was no home phone or shower in his place. And did I mention that I didn’t speak German? I remember curling up on his uncomfortable bed one day sobbing and wondering how I could go home to Brooklyn – to my parents – without my tail between my legs. After all, I set out to conquer the world and now I couldn’t even conquer my loneliness.
Something extraordinary happened when I made the decision to consciously stay in Austria. I remember there was a moment about an hour into my unheard cries (and my pity party) when something inside me stirred.
What if there was no going back?
Is any place ever the same once you’ve left? What if I decided to go back to the States and my parents didn’t have a room for me? Were they even still together?
What if you took a chance and went out of the apartment today?
The choice was to go out even though I was scared or to stay in and get more depressed. I knew how depression and loneliness felt and I wanted to feel better so I had to take an action.
What’s the worst thing that could happen?
I thought I’d get lost and without a phone to call my brother I imagined that I’d never find my way back home. I was catastrophizing. Finally, I decided to write down my address knowing that if I got lost I could show it to someone and I remembered that lots of people in Vienna spoke English.
What if you trusted that someone would see you, notice you, and talk to you?
My thoughts started shifting from fear to possibility. I was so scared that I was invisible (an issue I dealt with growing up) that I had been afraid to even take a chance and go outside my apartment. I knew I needed to be filled up and to stop thinking only about myself because it made me self-conscious.
I started consuming the books on my brother’s shelves and suddenly I had friends again – the characters in these famous stories. George Orwell became my favorite author. I imagined all kinds of exciting adventures that my future would bring. And I left the apartment. I took the U-bann (the Austrian subway) and went just one-stop so I could explore new things and definitely find my way back home. The next day I summoned up my courage and I extended my exciting exploration by another stop on the line.
I found my way home. The next day I found a farmer’s market and returned with loaves of bread and delicious cheeses.
At the end of the summer, my brother invited me to extend my summer vacation to help assist stage-manage a play that he wrote and was directing. He apologized for not spending much time with me and assured me that would change.
I decided to take a chance and stay. I had learned to transform my loneliness into life lessons. I could live alone with myself and not be lonely. I said YES. And oh, the adventures and friendships I made.
Want to reprint this article in your ezine or website? You may, as long as it remains intact and you include this complete blurb with it: Brenda Adelman, MA in Spiritual Psychology, referred to as The Queen of Forgiveness, teaches people who have a lot to offer but are stuck, how to become present, enjoy more success and peace in their relationships and lives by letting go of old and new resentments using the art of forgiveness. For FR*EE tips on how to finally be happy and free visit www.forgivenessandfreedom.com.
