Sehnsucht

I woke up this morning feeling as though my body refused to get out of bed. My gaze turned toward the window and outside the weather seemed to mirror the heaviness I felt inside. The grey sky and the soft rhythm of raindrops sliding down the glass made me exhale deeply.

Suddenly, I found myself longing for the light summer wind playing through my hair, the sun’s warm rays caressing my skin and the endless shades of blue dancing before my eyes as my feet sank into fine white sand.

Am I becoming wetterabhängig, as the locals of the region like to say?

Perhaps. But what I was truly feeling was Sehnsucht. That beautiful German word used to describe longing. You can long for a person, a place, a feeling or a moment in time. Sehnsucht can capture the ache of missing something you once had or something you’ve never known at all. It’s the quiet desire for a relationship you’ve never experienced or the pull to see the ocean again after too long away. It’s that deep wish to hug someone you’ve been separated from or craving the comfort only they bring.

The word even carries Sucht—“addiction”—within it because longing can become consuming, almost obsessive, like drifting through endless daydreams. It’s that feeling when your heart wants something so deeply, yet it remains just out of reach.

My mother once told me that when I was born, it was snowing and bitterly cold outside. Yet as I grew, I loved nothing more than to run around naked and constantly resisting any attempt to dress me. I was only two years old when my family decided to migrate to a tropical place where it never snowed.

I quickly embraced the heat and sunlight, learning to feel at home by the sea—sitting for hours on the beach, whispering secret conversations to the waves, watching the horizon and dreaming about the unknown.

Years later, I returned to Europe and learned to live with the rhythm of four seasons. But because of my childhood, I often find myself searching for places that might awaken that same feeling of home. Some of the Greek islands that I visited resembled the landscapes I once knew, yet none completely satisfied that inner yearning.

In the Dominican Republic, the beaches reminded me vividly of home yet I began comparing every place I visited to my small island and in doing so, I spoiled the magic. That’s when I realized my Sehnsucht was, as in the German song, Unheilbar—incurable.

People often ask why I don’t simply return home to my island if I miss it so much. I’ve wrestled with that question for years, until one day I finally gave in and flew back for a short holiday.

There, I was swept into a storm of feelings—sadness, pain, joy and relief. Sadness, because I could have come sooner. Pain, because I faced memories of my mother, who was no longer there. Joy, from being surrounded by family. And finally, relief—the quiet peace of feeling whole again, returning to Europe with my heart full and my spirit recharged to one hundred percent.

---

Reflection for You

Have you ever felt Sehnsucht for a place, a person or a moment that once made you feel whole? That gentle ache of longing often reminds us of who we were and who we still are beneath the noise of everyday life.

Alexandra’s Note

For me, Sehnsucht isn’t only about missing something. It’s about remembering the pieces of myself that felt most alive,the warmth, the light, the freedom that shaped who I became.

Share Your Thoughts

What does Sehnsucht mean to you personally? Is there a place or memory that still calls you back from time to time? Feel free to share your reflections in the comments. I’d love to read them.

Continue reading the Journal:
• Journal — First Page
• The Space Between Then and Now
• Chapter I — Birth of Strength
• Mom, You're Boring
• Asking Myself
• Why Silence?