What pace are you made of?

In this strenuous pace of life, I realized I missed writing.

So here I am today, with a new picture in my mind while I absorb the morning glory from my balcony.

I spent a March weekend in Munich. It only took me a day to absorb the city. I had not even explored the city fully, just the heart of it. However, the heart was so full, hustling and bustling. Even amidst the pandemic, Munich was in its full glory. There was no street where the music wouldn’t touch and no corner where the city didn’t define it being a hustler.

I was, naturally, astonished at the fast pace of life in Munich as compared to Passau. People always seemed in a hurry. They would just pass by places without submerging into the complete usefulness of the city. And you would realize that they have been into the hustle life for quite some time now.

There I was in the middle of the pool (of people), puzzled, with directions. It’s like nobody is breathing, they swift to one corner and jog to the other; living in a world of their own.

Munich was new for me. I understood why most international people chose to live there. It gave us more opportunities and less language barrier. The German they spoke was easier to understand and respond to. You would not be completely lost there.

But oh my! The moment I stepped out of the train at Passau station defined my glory moment. That homely feeling that rushed in my veins convinced me that I was made for a slower life. Somewhere close to nature and its inhabitants that smile and spark at me as I pass by. Motioning towards the inner heart of Passau, familiar with its fetching streets like an open book, I smiled as I thought to myself, I’m home.

So tell me, what pace are you made of?