A Personal Story – Part 2

In my previous blog post, “What Remains When Everything Shifts,” I wrote about the first period after my divorce. My search for work and housing. At the end, I mention that I found new love with Josephine, a woman from the Philippines. And that I was able to go there for a month to meet her and spend a month together. It was a wonderful time. Finally, real time together. Partly just the two of us, partly with her family. We visited beautiful places and did wonderful things together. What a warm welcome from this family. A farming family in the rice fields of Mindanao. It was special to experience this life up close, to help out, and to experience what it’s like to live there.

I felt comfortable. After all, I was with my new love, getting to know her family, her son, and her birthplace. I had never been to this part of the world before. After my relationship with a Brazilian woman, with whom I was also able to experience that world, now the Filipino world. How special and wonderful. Besides, after my trip, I would have a final interview with a great employer. So, upon my return, the future immediately looked bright again. How different things turned out…

But first, I want to mention a silver lining. While I was traveling, I was put in touch with a friend of a friend. She lives in Ruinen, well, the countryside of Ruinen (which, for many of you, is a countryside in itself). She has a beautiful vineyard with several buildings. One of them houses a fully self-contained apartment that was available for temporary occupancy. We exchanged numbers and explained my precarious financial situation to her openly and honestly. “We’d talk about it when I got back to the Netherlands,” was her matter-of-fact reply. I arrived at Schiphol Airport in the evening, at the end of May (Ascension Day). I booked a hotel near Schiphol one more time. On Friday, I would pick up my car from Anneke’s and drive straight to Ruinen to meet Marjan.

Marjan didn’t need many words; I could move in. The financial side of things would come. First, I needed to calm down and find work from that situation, and then everything would surely work out. Where I expected a room-like place, this is a first-class apartment. A large living room/kitchen-diner, a spacious bedroom, and a lovely bathroom are more than I could have dreamed of. And then the surroundings… in the countryside, on a vineyard. Now, I don’t drink wine, but I do enjoy grapes. And then there are meadows all around, what a delight.

The first blow soon came, though. The job with this employer fell through; after six interviews, I was rejected due to a poorly coordinated internal transfer. So, besides the fact that work wasn’t going well, my world was shrinking considerably. Every cent I had had to go to food and drink. Marjan occasionally slipped me a treat, but otherwise, everything was done as frugally as possible. The car went into the shed because I couldn’t afford it. Gas is expensive. I walked to my groceries (about 4 km, after all). Public transport doesn’t run, and then it’s first a bus, then a train, and then you’re in Zwolle. Living in such a remote area feels very far away and very lonely. It’s also not on any route. Just popping by is simply not an option. I was alone, and that’s how I felt. Yes, there’s love, but everything felt distant. Apeldoorn suddenly wasn’t an hour’s drive away, but an insurmountable distance. And then it’s nice to live in a beautiful place, it’s special that I get to live there, but it’s terrible that I can only do that here. It truly felt like an ordeal.

My job search continued and remained difficult. I also became more worried about the political climate. With more time than I should have, I couldn’t fully focus on that. I was (and still am, actually) worried about the political climate and became increasingly activist online. This resulted in a lot of hate and even threats. I could relate to it and often found myself laughing about it. But threats like “we’ll just show up with a gang” are never pleasant to receive. Not even for my children to hear or read. After a conversation with them, I promised to soften my blow and show them that humanity exists in this country. More so than seems to be the case now in politics and the media.

In August, I walked the Pieterpad as a refugee. A 550km trek through the Netherlands, from Pieterburen (a circuit of the Wadden Sea beforehand) to St. Peter’s Church near Maastricht. As a refugee? Yes, that’s how I summarized it. I called it “Walking for Humanity.” But what does that mean? I walked completely dependent on the people I met along the way, for food, drink, and shelter. I had none of that with me, so I was completely dependent, like a refugee constantly experiences during their journey. The help they receive along the way determines the success and safety of the journey. Safety wasn’t an issue for me, of course, and after talking with Meb (a refugee himself) about his journey, I realized that my journey couldn’t compare to a real one. And a success it was. I was on the road for 30 days. For 4 days/nights, I was able to stay with friends and family. I managed the remaining 26 stages (and there were indeed 26) with food, drink, and shelter from complete strangers. You can read all about it at https://w4h.site. You can also find all the blogs about this trip on this blog site. Use the calendar to navigate to August, and each day you’ll find a blog post about my experiences…

Tired, but incredibly satisfied, I returned to Ruinen at the end of August. Proud and confident about the future, I resumed my search for work and permanent housing from Ruinen. My course with “365 Days of Success – The Miracle Road Map” also started in September. On the first online day, Arjan Vergeer invited me to share my story about the Pieterpad. And that changed my life dramatically. Although I didn’t know it at the time… Jonas, a fellow student, heard my story and connected with me via LinkedIn. He soon asked me to coach him. He set the budget (which was higher than what I usually charge), and we got started. Unconventional, no tried-and-true planning, no fixed agenda with exercises, but conversations. Deep, special conversations. Where I not only listened to his story and reflected it back to him, but he did the same with me. “Who was the coach?” I asked him several times, but that was what he needed. And, honestly, so did I.

Meanwhile, I had signed up with Willemsen de Koning as a special transport taxi driver in this region. This work always requires people. And financially, I understand the need, but in terms of satisfaction, I can recommend it to everyone. What a wonderful and rewarding job it is! That way, some money started to quietly come in. I could start paying for my apartment, I could start paying some bills, and the water level stopped rising and even seems to be going down a bit. Not quickly, but it is going down. A relief!

This coaching led to a follow-up request to help him organize a two-day event for a fantastic new concept. I saw plenty of room in the coaching quote, but Jonas wanted a separate quote for this. And so, together we organized the 24-hour race in Lunteren. It was a resounding success. And suddenly, I’m a partner in a startup with a wonderful goal: By 2050, we want all childcare facilities (ages 0-18) to be built sustainably and circularly. Furthermore, all these buildings will be innovative and inspiring in nature. A challenging goal, but we believe it can be achieved.

More on this in part 3: “Where miracles begin.”