Chapter 8 – Mark Emigrates

This was not the first time I had considered making the leap.  I had always been interested in moving to Europe.  My earlier attempts consisted of finding a job and continuing to climb the ladder.  But there were always the barriers: adequate language skills, perception upon return, and, ultimately, self-doubt.  One reads or hears about such “adventurous” people who seem to live a life that is worth a published biography.  I was raised to avoid such risk.

I’m sure you are familiar with the concept that once you become aware of an idea or way of thinking, it starts popping up everywhere.  Immediately after being sickened by a CEO speech about how his associates are helping build his dream, social media posts combining quotes with blurry picturesque backgrounds seem to find me.  “Build your own dreams, or someone will hire you to build theirs.”  “In the end, we only regret the chances we didn’t take.”  And then, always a good one to remember, “Get busy living, or get busy dying.”

The seemingly unending barrage of depressing life-motivation propaganda was reinforced with the announcement of my little brother and sister-in-law’s low-budget tour of the world (well, where they could get visas).  It was that which prompted me make an appointment with the German Consulate in San Francisco in December 2015.  The consulate explained the visa process and the paperwork that I’d want to collect to make the process as smooth as possible: proof of health insurance, German language skills, and enough money as to not be a burden.

So, I started saving money (it was unclear how much was needed – some sites say €660 per month).  And I signed up for the German fluency exams at the local Goethe Institut.  Having passed the B1 level (with the exception of listening…), I gave notice at work.  This freeing experience initiated many conversations; these discussions further reinforced my decision.

I have always had a plan; I no longer had a plan.  My thought process was to pursue my hobby of beer, cheese, bread, and sausage making while living abroad. “I no longer had a plan.” No, I don’t know what I can do with that.  No, I don’t know if I’ll find a job in that vein.  But people do buy these things, and there is a movement in the US to get back to a do-it-yourself food production (or at least an understanding what one is ingesting).  So, this became my elevator speech; this became my reason for the move.

Making my rounds at work to bid farewells, the majority simply wished me well in this new path.  A few reminded me to take pictures during my “trip”, as if it were a between-jobs vacation.  What I found most disheartening was those confiding their similar dreams to pursue a dream or passion; each of them claimed to have unique circumstances that were holding them back: family needs, a mortgage, a retirement in ten years, or just not enough saved.  Although I could have developed many solutions (excluding caring for children), none of them would be sufficient to push these colleagues into action.  And I can absolutely relate.  Getting motivated is hard (as is staying motivated).

I gave up my rent-controlled apartment in San Francisco at the end of December and moved my downsized belongings back to my parents’ basement.  I gave myself three weeks to get my residency settled before moving abroad.  In that time, I had to get a Wisconsin drivers license, update credit card and bank accounts, and purge extraneous subscriptions (i.e., Amazon Prime, old credit cards, cell phone plans).  Also, I worked with some “patient” USPS personnel in order to ship a slew of textbooks to Germany for use during my time here (FYI – aggressive sighing isn’t as helpful as one might think; use your words).

And, finally, at the end of January, I found myself on a plane to Germany with some clothes, more books, and a hope to make something out of this new adventure.  I am not looking for a life worthy of a publishable biography; I simply need to be proud of how I use the limited time I have.