Moments in Time: Worb, Switzerland

This week’s journey takes us to Worb, Switzerland….specifically to a particular bench that was one of my favorite places to sit and regain perspective.  

Worb is a small village southeast of the city of Bern. It was our home for 4 1/2 years while we lived in Switzerland. We loved it. We lived in a house that sat halfway up the “Worb Hill,” as we would often refer to it. Down the street sat the 13th century Worb Schloss, Worb Castle. We stayed in the converted stable of the NeuSchloss, or the New Castle of Worb. A quick side fun fact to the Neuschloss, the Von Grafienrieds family, has owned the castles through the centuries and continues to own them today. It was their decedent, Christoph Von Grafenried, in 1710 that found New Bern, North Carolina. It was beautiful to experience a bit of U.S. history in that small village and property where we lived.

Ok, back to the bench.

Throughout the country of Switzerland, you could find many benches along paths and trails. Worb was no different. Scattered across the rolling hills were many benches that I loved to sit on and relax, partly because most of them faced the majestic Alps. 

That said, one bench, in particular, would be my go-to bench when I needed peace and perspective, times when I needed silence and truth. This specific bench sat on top of Worb Hill.

The Worb hill, correctly named Worb Berg, was about 829 m or approximately 2,700 ft.  

It would take about 20 minutes or so walking from our house to reach it.  

Starting on Farbstrasse, the name of the road we lived on, I would begin the journey towards my bench. Past the walled property line on one side and the bus stop on the other, the views of the Alps would start to open up to my right. Views of Neisen, Stockhorn, and the rest of the Bernese Alps demanded my attention as I made my way down the street, which at times would become dangerous because the road was very narrow compared to the roads in the U.S. Therefore, cars, the bus, even the local brewery’s horse and carriage making their local deliveries became a hazard to us walking. That said, The magnitude of the mountains demanded all of your attention.

Making my way up the hill a bit now and past the shooting range, I would turn upward towards the forest. At this point, images of Eiger, Monch, and Jungfrau would come into view. These were some of the most prominent mountain peaks in the Bernese Oberland area, otherwise known as the “Big Boys” or “Jungfrau and the other two.”

The views of the mountains would come to a brisk end, though, as I reach the dark wooded area of the trail. The dark shadows of the trees engulfed my vision, much like my penetrating thoughts consumed my brain.  

As I mentioned before, I would choose this particular bench when my insecurities, fears, or anxieties would begin to get the best of me. Whether that be fears and anxieties of being an ex-pat living in a different country, insecurities of being a stay-at-home dad trying to raise two young boys, or my thoughts and fears that creep in daily life. This bench offered me the peace and calmness that I so desperately sought.

Rounding up to the final elevation, my heart rate and breathing would become quicker with each step. Thoughts of peace that waited for me at the bench overcame every idea of wanting to stop and take a break.

At this point, my anticipation of finally reaching this place of peace would take hold of me. It would almost propel me through the last upward paces as I got to the straight trail that led me to the out cove and bench looking over the village, the Alps, the horses and cows, my troubles, fears, hopes, and dreams.

It would always take me a few moments before I finally sat on my bench. I needed to take in what I was looking at. The picturesque landscape never ceased to captivate me, it would arrest me, but more importantly, the view and its majestic natural beauty would always offer an invitation. An invitation to a more profound truth. A truth that drew me to the bench that I would know so well.

The older I get, the more and more I believe that truth dwells in paradox. (That is, when two opposing things are married together, they begin to paint a picture of a deeper, more truthful reality.)

Sitting high above the world on that bench, looking down at our house, watching the cars moving along the narrow rolling country roads and the horses grazing in their pastures, reminded me that I was above the narrow worries of the world. It was a great reminder of how minor my troubles and problems were. My unlovable parts were reminded that I was loved… my fears of being inadequate washed away in my thoughts of being secure in my own skin. Looking down helped me regain my sense of self. I was loved; I was Brett.

Ahhh, but to then look up…to look up and out.

To be simultaneously reminded just how small I am. To be reminded that there was something more extensive and more beautiful beyond the narrow confines of my ego and self. A reminder that I was a part of something bigger than me, a minor actor in the great theodrama of truth. It was a great reminder that I was in the world but not of the world. And ultimately, my life is not about me. So, in other words, get over myself.

And so here I would sit. On a simple wooden bench. Looking both up and down, feeling big and feeling small…feeling whole. 

Sometimes I would sit for minutes. Sometimes I would sit for hours. But no matter how long I sat, it was a place that brought me peace and perspective, all so that I could make my way back down the hill and re-enter into my daily life of roles and responsibilities.

To this day, I still think of that bench. I think of sitting there, and I succumb to the same paradoxical truth. A truth that I hope that you have enjoyed with me all on this small bench in Worb, Switzerland.

Until next time, blessings to you on your journey…

About the Series:

This series of writing will focus on a particular moment and place in time.  For example, it will take us from a bench in Switzerland to a baseball field in Montana or a street corner in France.  Each place invites us into the moment’s emotions, lessons learned, and another journey for the soul.