Yesterday, I was feeling out of sorts. It was my first day back from an entire month of being with family and friends. For a month, I let my proverbial stomach hang loose in all that was familiar and recognizable. But yesterday, I found myself back in the middle of this still foreign city — with its still elusive language and still curious customs — comporting myself in odd shapes to fit in.
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A little homesick, I was craving the comfortable and easy.
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I took a morning stroll and absent-mindedly entered a bookstore. At once, I realized that it was an All-English bookstore (a very rare gem in Madrid!). Thrilled, I burst out to the guy behind the register, “I am so glad I found you!”
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“Why, thank you!” the apparently British owner said. “We just opened a few months ago.” With minimal prodding, he continued, “I retired from my banking job a couple of years ago, took a long think during a bike ride on the Camino and returned knowing I wanted to open a bookstore. It’s been a couple of exhilirating months, but I’m still finding my feet.”
Yup, I thought. Tell me about it. Finding your feet.
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“Do you write?” he asked.
I looked at him incredulously. “Yes! . . . i mean, I’m not published or anything. But i write for fun.”
“Oh great! I do the same. We have a writer’s group that meets here every week over wine and beer. We talk about the art of writing, then we write. Please come. We have all sorts — playwrights, novelists, poets.”I got chills.
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Another guy joined in, “I couldn’t help overhear. I’m relatively new to Madrid, too. Arrived 2 years ago from New York right before the pandemic.”
“Get out! I lived in NY for many years! What brought you here?”
“I needed a change. One day I told my wife it was time to move to Spain. So here we are, finding our feet. I’ll be happy to tell you all about it over drinks sometime.”
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We had a lot to chat and laugh about that morning. Three fish out of water, bonding over the exoticism of our new home. All in active search for the new but still needing to find ground in what we knew. Three fish slowly finding their feet.
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On this particular morning, it was just the kind of home I needed.