The first week home

When I left the house on my bike on Tuesday morning, I turned left instead of right.

I was headed for in-person meetings at the office. But against my productivity-first instinct—and despite the pile of post-vacation backlog demanding my attention—I took a new, longer route.

I headed west a few blocks, then picked up the Somerville Community Path at a point farther away than my usual commute, just to bike its prettiest section. Then, as usual, I crossed the Museum of Science bridge toward downtown Boston, breezing down the bike lane past the backed-up traffic. But here, instead of continuing straight through the honking and brake-slamming of rush hour, I turned right. I pedaled along the Charles River Esplanade, craning my neck to admire the water’s sparkle. I skirted the blooms of the Public Garden and the tree-lined edge of the Boston Common. I finally entered downtown from the south, flanked by the come-hither lights of the theater district.

Danny and I have been home for about a week now, and I’ve been going out of my way—literally—to make each day unique. I’m trying to dip into the sense of wonder and curiosity I felt in Hamburg and paint it onto the daily experience of life back home.

Our first day back, it was a long stroll, rather than our usual short drive, to the grocery store. Another day, it was a walk back from the doctor’s office rather than taking the T—the slowness of which led to two unexpected delights: an impromptu stop at the library to renew my card, and a long phone call with a dear friend. And on Tuesday, it was the unnecessarily meandering bike adventure.

In the last week of being back, we’ve also already visited my parents to help them clear out my childhood home (but that’s a separate post), and been re-immersed in the ways that the Trump regime’s presence is felt and discussed and agonized over by everyone everywhere all at once (also a separate post).

Tuesday’s ride was glorious. I arrived at the office in a grand mood, energized by my morning adventure, and ready to dive into work.

But the adventure served another purpose, too—the breaking of routine, satisfying, for now, my perennial obsession with coming back different after time away from home. Maybe now I’ll be the sort of person who takes the long way to work just because it’s prettier. Or maybe I’m just visiting that persona for a little while, before my curiosity-and-wonder paintbrush runs dry and I fall back into my old routines.

Regardless, the bike ride made me think, Hey, home is good, and it’s good to be home.

As I mentioned in my last post, I’m planning to keep this purple, political, German-American, adventuresome, reflective, Titanic-y (less so lately, so sorry) thing going for however long I enjoy writing it.

But no matter what, the transition back home marks an inflection point. So here’s a round-up of posts from my Germany Era, in case you missed any of them:

In February, I launched Purple Titanic with a note on why I feel called to write, now, a blend of Titanic history, adventure travelogue, and social change commentary.

A few weeks later, I wrote about Germany’s February elections, the first month of Trump’s return to power, and rowing toward the light in the distance instead of waiting for a savior. After an interlude to explain why I’ve called this Purple Titanic, I followed up in March with the case for populist organizing inspired by an intriguing Hamburg local electoral campaign strategy. In April came part 3, on what the sand and seals of a remote island off the North German coast remind me about our individual power to change things.

In May, a visit to a small town in the heart of Germany’s far-right country inspired reflections on where the U.S. left could use some jolting.

In early June, I wrote about how the media’s obsession with billionaires has distracted us from the important stuff since at least the Titanic’s era. I ended that month with a more personal recounting of an imaginary-danger-tinged midnight stroll laced with preemptive nostalgia for my numbered days in Hamburg.

On July 4th, I cross-posted a piece I wrote for Corporate Accountability’s blog on the centuries-deep roots of corporate power in the U.S. And I rounded out my time in Europe recounting Danny and my visit to a Nazi-bunker-turned-enchanted-urban-forest-castle (it's hard to describe, see pics) on our last day in Hamburg.

If you missed any of these—or if you’re just joining Purple Titanic—I hope you enjoy. As always, I love knowing what you think, either in the post comments or by replying to the email newsletter.

What else?

• Department of Solutions: Existentially anxious over the far-right attempt to kill public media? Did you know you can “adopt a station”? Here! (Mine’s in Alaska.)
• Department of Partial but Lifesaving Victory: Regardless of one’s precise politics (also a future post topic), hopefully it’s universally good news that Israel, after admitting there’s no evidence Hamas stole U.N. food aid, is letting aid into Gaza again. Proof that international attention and public outcry work.
• I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you don’t have to read a single word about the Epstein files today. It’s the weekend. Why not determine what Trader Joe’s made-up specialty item you are instead? (I’m gluten-free Brussels sprout nuggets, nice to meet you.)