In the darkest of winter we sat in a small cabin in the midst of the dark wonderwoods. For many reasons, and not one reason alone, we realized that this particular place (however adventurous and bright it had been) was not the place we wanted to settle.
So we packed our stuff, once again. Backpacking and riding the wild horses we sailed on (oh… metaphor metamorphosis)
There are other settlers in the woods. Other pioneers. Other valleys.
In one of the other valleys lives an elderly couple. Native to this area.
We made friends.
They came to visit us and often brought with them baskets with food. Whatever they could spare.
They said that it used to be like that in the old days. People used to visit each other. They used to interchange leftovers (nothing must go to waste!) and generally keep an eye on each other. Solidarity used to be the way of the world.
That´s what they say.
You know that have pigeons at their place. White pigeons.
In the midst of winter they offered us a house. They had a spare house on their property, nobody lived there, it was falling apart. We could come live there. For free. We could help each other.
The house was a real modern house with electricity and running water- but it was still in the outskirts, still in the forest.
Would pioneers say no to that? Would we?
Although we did not want to live in an “ordinary house” the decision to stay here in Sweden, meant that we would have to make some changes.
We would have to send the kids to school (in Sweden homeschooling is illegal) Consequently we would need a little bit of money (school is free but the standards of normal life are not) Consequently I would have to work (changing mindset) Consequently a real ordinary house suddenly seemed attractive (easy)
Our neighbour offered us to come live in the guesthouse while we worked on the ordinary house and so all the changes began.
We arrived in a blizzard. We didn´t bring much with us. Like refugees. Or immigrants.
You know, these things still exist. Paralel worlds exist.
However life made one of these twisted little turns and suddenly somebody else needed the house more than we did. No hard feelings. We know how it is and we love our neighbours dearly.
It just ment that from one day to the other our plans would have to change yet again and we didn´t know what to do.
Those were hard times.
One day Jeppe went for a walk in the forest. He found a ruin, the scattered reminiscences of a time long gone.
This place, Lénsætter, was special, we liked it, we decided that fate had given us another chance to stay true to our dreams, visions and values.
That we would not leave the wilderness life. That we would yet again reject the modern lifestyle. That we would be pioneers.
At the moment we still live in the guesthouse.
Victoria has become the keeper of the pigeons, she trains them I guess.
Each day we go to Lénsætter to work and every time it´s like stepping into the enchanted woods, once again.
We want to move away from this house as soon as the weather allows us. We are used to camping. We can stand our grounds.
We are no longer the inexperienced, naive, scared, lost children that we used to be.
I´m telling you this story because of the featured image to this post.
It is a picture of the internetantenna located just across the lake. Without that we would be below the radar.
It stares at me.
The original cabin was located in a very deep valley (which is also one of the reason we moved, it is a lesson we learnt: cold moves downwards).
Because of the surronding mountains I would have to move myself physically to get in touch with the outside world. I would have to climb the mountain to catch the airborne signals of the cellphones and Ze Internet.
Now… every time I look out the window I can see the internet.
That red eye of the dragon. It paralyzes me. I fall into my old routines. My head begins to hurt. I get preoccupied with those day-to-day cases of life, the indignation, the rage, the fear… that keeps me posting and inclined to communicate – but not enough to ever actually DO… anything about anything.
The red eye of the dragon keeps me on a short leash.
As I writer one of my biggest heroins is the famous Swedish childrens book author Astrid Lindgren. She wrote many great books but one of her books is more tragic, epic, sad, disturbing and encouraging that all the rest. It´s the story of the brothers Lionheart.
It is a story of heaven and hell, death, life, being reborn. It´s a book about family ties and rebellion. It´s a book abour oppression. Courage and strength.
There´s a dragon in that book. It´s called Katla. It has red eyes.
I used to have nightmares about Katla but then I grew up and dragons don´t exist.