New Beginnings - Call of the Wild (2)

What is important to consider here is that the cold and the snow didn't win. They didn't manage to defeat me. I was strong enough to live through it, as I was managing so far (to some extent). I had embraced the winds, the snow and the cold. I had stopped being afraid of them, because they don't seem so powerful if you face them straight on. Those weren't the things that were going to stop me after all. If anything, my mind was what stood in my way.

Life here in the north moves much slower, at a completely different pace from what I'm used to. I don't see anyone running around, feeling stressed. They just seem to have a very distinct way of living - taking things slow, not worrying about the things they can't change and enjoying a simple life. Which basically meant I had to adjust my entire way of thinking and operating. In short, my mindset would have to change completely (and fast, for my sanity's sake). I grew up believing that if I'm not making anything happen, I'm not moving forward. Which is probably the reason why I felt so unhappy and disappointed all the time. At this moment, I was being forced to face life without any noise in the background: no job, no answers, no city streets to distract me, no friends close by, no studying. It was just me, alone with my dangerous thoughts. I worried so much about the future, I didn't seem to be in the present anymore. My head was a whirlwind of concerns, a jumble of bad thoughts jumping around in my head. I wondered when my personnummer would finally arrive (but what if it took even longer than eight weeks?); when and how I would get a job (since I still didn't know much Swedish); I had panicked thoughts about whether I could ever master the language (everything about my life here depended on it) and in my fear, I wondered if I had made a mistake coming here...It would've been much easier to go to an English speaking country, where I could start my life right away. In those moments, anxiety would take me hostage and I was helpless to prevent it. I just wanted all the noise to stop.

Suddenly I realized that maybe the disquiet grew within me. That maybe it wasn't the fact that I really loved to live in a fast-paced (chaotic) city, it was that I didn't know what to do with all the empty space and time I had been given. And I really wanted to know what was it that I was so desperately trying to keep out, smothering away with noise. What would happen if I just gave in and listened to the silence around me? What would I find there? My big quest was understanding all of this...and figuring out what to do about it.

As I was slowly becoming aware that something had to change, the light came my way in the form...of a video. On the 17th of February I came across Jonna Jinton's video (if you haven't watched it, I highly recommend it) about her life-transforming move to the north of Sweden. Her situation was quite different from mine, yet I could still find several details about her journey that resonated with me. Her story moved me beyond words, it inspired and motivated me. It awoke something in me, perhaps what I had long forgotten. Suddenly, I gained hope and a clear new perspective - it was like a breath of fresh air going through me. Her video reminded me of some old and very important truths about my own choice.

I moved here because I wanted to experience the culture and the way of living in Sweden, that I had only managed to try during my visits. I came because I had wanted to know what it would be like to live in another country/reality. I had wanted a challenge, but somewhere along the way forgot about it when things got too difficult. Through her, I remembered that it is good to be tested, to know for sure how resilient we really are. Without all of this, I wouldn't be able to know the answer. Part of me also had wanted to experience the brutally cold months and then very slowly witness as the ice started to melt. I had wanted to see life be reborn after it was dormant for so long. I had wanted to experience Midsummer for the first time and fully enjoy the lovely summer days, when the sun never sets. Most importantly, I had desperately wanted to be closer to nature, embrace it completely and surrender myself to it. It was all around me and it was breathtaking, it filled my heart with the most pure kind of joy. At night, when we walk our dog, I look up at the dark blue sky and I can finally see stars again, always shining so brightly. In the city, I could rarely see any stars... I also managed to get a glimpse of the stunning northern lights - a moment I will never forget for as long as I live. It was so beautiful, it brought tears to my eyes.

So maybe it's not about all the things I do in one day anymore, but the shift to doing everything that I needed to do and being okay with it, even if that "to-do list" doesn't end up being as long. These first few months were probably going to be the hardest part of my stay and that idea brought me some comfort. I was learning a lot from it, growing and changing more than I could've imagined. For the last six years I had wanted this so fiercely and now I was so completely caught up in my own misery, that I didn't stop to be thankful. To appreciate it and to cherish it with all my heart. I could finally wake up and fall asleep next to the person (and dog) that I love. That had to mean something in my sea of worrying. Sometimes I manage to see things incredibly clearly and I feel like laughing at myself for all the times I worry myself to exhaustion. In those moments, it doesn't seem to make sense at all. It's like a painfully unbalanced seesaw, going up and down like the ocean tide. However, starting this blog has helped a lot.

Ultimately, I have a feeling that nature is what is going to cleanse my soul. Whatever happens to me, no matter how hard things get, the streams will still run and the snow will still melt. And then, spring will come.