a quiet hinterhof

I arrived in Berlin yesterday evening. I had both personal and work-related tasks cumulated over the last weeks, while Norbert was my guest, but even from before. Today i worked only four hours, but i already feel in control again.

Does this happen because i have this flat only for myself? Because i have been living here for a while and a lot of little details have been sorted out and the edges smoothened? Or is there something in this city, in my situation here, which makes me feel calm and safe?

The Hinterhof on which my window is open is bright and quiet. I was often impressed by how quiet the Hinterhöfe in Berlin can be. I have no appointments for the dinner, or for later, or for the next days, i am just free, but i know that i could meet many friends. A bird sings, i hear it loud in the silence, as i could in the small Marina di Ragusa, yet here i know that there is a world of opportunities all around me, just waiting for being discovered.

I don’t feel the need to frenetically check my smartphone for anything, i don’t look for an escape there.

My internet connection is steady and fast. Seems obvious but it wasn’t always the case in the past months.

Maybe it is just about having an home. Maybe all those temporary accommodations and continuously being a guest for months made me nervous. Maybe i would feel the same wherever i will want to move my home.

But maybe what makes me feel so quiet, here, is the memory of all the times when i have been stressed, or tired, or in trouble among these walls, and i managed to overcome that. The challenges i went through. The seasons, the experiments, the dreams, the expectations, the concerns, the worries, the plans, the errors, the small steps, the constancy, the simple achievements, small or big, the will to do better, the optimism, the feeling of possibility …

The list grows. Quite some feelings, quite some time. This wooden floor, this quiet Hinterhof, these few walls, not very bright. The large, solid, single room with my mess at the corners, and the tram in front of the door to bring me to the rest of Berlin, surrounding me almost in every direction.

Am i being too nostalgic? When i try to think about it objectively, this flat is not very beautiful, it rather looks like a prison, and i might be having Stockolm syndrome. If i can bring with me the memory of all the challenges i went through, i can probably find a better place to tackle the next ones. A better place with a quiet Hinterhof, where to brew green tea. But will i be able to find a better city for me?