Something strange is happening.
It´s me. I´m changing.
Sometimes we need real money so sometimes I go to the real world. To make money. This time I went to Copenhagen to cover a conference about light.
Did you know that modern people spend 90% of their time indoors- and that the single main focus of the light industry is to create light that simulates natural light?
Every research being conducted point to the same conclusion, uniformly: natural light is not only important, it is essential for human beings. It affects concentration. It affects joy.
So modern light is all about creating electrical light that imitates natural light because, you know, we cant actually GO outside or spend time in the natural world, everybody knows, haha!
They try to create electrical light that varies (like daylight through the day) and light that adapts (light with colors)
Most of the time, making money is insteresting- but as I was riding the train down through Sweden I found myself writing depressing stuff- this is the reason why I havn´t updated for a while.
I guess I need to say this before I can even begin to say anything about what we´re doing NOW. TODAY.
This is what I wrote in the train:
A year ago I had no problem leaving them. It was only natural. It´s not anymore. It feels weird.
Leaving them feels, pardon the chliché, like being torn apart. Literally. Extended between two horses. Now pull!
My heart pumps faster, I cannot control my breath and here I am, in this train, pulling myself together, one deep breath at a time. Closed eyes.
I don´t like leaving home.
I´m travelling through the landscapes of this strange country. Sweden.
I don´t know what to do about Sweden.
Nature here is so immensely beautiful and when I look to the blue mountains, always these blue mountains in the horizon, I feel something… ancient.
As if there is a soul in this landscape and that soul is Nordic and my soul is Nordic too so we are kind of compatible. Me and Sweden.
And then again we´re not.
We´ve lived here for a year now and it still feels exotic.
The train goes fast, so very fast. I see flocks of white swans on the fields. A black raven at a train station. A falcon flying along with the train, a couple of minutes just outside my window.
It´s spring now, all of the birds are heading home. North.
I´m travelling south.
The train is a blood-vessel through the country. Pumping. Pumping.
All of the people, out into the world. Young women travelling hours each morning, just to get an education. Hardworking men, with their hardworking faces. The cabins, the castles, the lakes, rivers, fields and the industry we pass. Pump! Pump!
And I wanna go back. I want to embrace my child, I want to tend to my seeds.
Every pumping heartbeat of society is a whiplash to my back. I can´t believe I´m doing this. The doctor told me to lay still but due to the money I can´t.
I think this is the first time in my life I ONLY do it for the money. Isn´t that strange? As if the running, the stress and the need to succeed was something I really wanted. The ambition, the networking, the ugly little opportunist in me, the conferences, the speeches, the hours I spent counseling people while me, myself, I… you know…
Maybe I wanted it that way? Maybe I really wanted the life that I had?
So I guess I have changed.
I´m watching this change, from the outside, from above, from the side, like the falcon.
I used to love dressing up, sharpening the pencil, the mind, the tongue.
I used to love the fancy food, the fancy phones and the fancy people, oh my, and the city puls. PUMP! PUMP!
I can´t breathe.
I´m sitting very still, looking out of the window, but I´m back in the running game.
I know it will be better as soon as see my friends, my sister, as soon as I begin the work, tomorrow. I still like to sharpen the pencil, the mind, the tongue you see. I also like the chili kebab I´ll be buying. As a reward. And the liquorice that you can only get your hands on in Denmark. When I step off this train I will suddenly understand what everybody´s saying, I will know which bus to take, I will now how to walk, talk and act, see, you never forget the motherland, it´s in your backbone, something soothing, and sure, sometimes I miss it.
But I miss the forest more. Now.
The anxiety is in the transit and these thoughts occur:
What if I like being a mother, a wife, a northwoman, a forest lady- more than I like being a journalist, a speechgiver, someone succesful?
What about my feminism then? What about the money? What about freedom, liberation, independence- having a voice, being HEARD!
What if I´m a radical homemaker? What if I´m of those “saved people” who has “real values”, what if I really stand for something, what if my ironic distance is failing me? What if I´m a hippie? What if I´m not who I used to be. Anymore.
OMG! OMG! OMG!