I’m sitting at Copenhagen airport with a glass of bubbles and the time has come to fly back home. What and where home is has become a bit blurry in recent time, and it has slowly begun to dawn on me that this might be a question I’ll never fully answer. The battle of the inexplicit urge of wanting stay along with the strong desire of wanting to run and never look back I’ve gotten used to by now, and come to appreciate. To me, there’s some undefinable deliverance to be found in this rootless way of life. Like an addiction; an addiction I’ve learned most people would encourage you to let go of. To be homeless is frowned upon, both literally and metaphorically. Even just to feel homeless. There’s something contradictory about traveling being a luxury while a life of constant wandering equates with a seemingly irresponsible life. It’s like the general opinion is that without a base, in time or space, you’ve willingly renounced not only the opportunity of making an impact in this world but more so the responsibility to do so.
I know I haven’t yet figured out my path. But what I do know is that as much of a privilege it might be to take your own time, it doesn’t always feel as romantic as it sounds. The world is a hurried place, and open arms rarely meet those who request for extra time to consider themselves. It’s like we are all just waiting to walk the plank, and for every day, the people in front of us drop out of the line as they find their way, and us explorers, we’re only getting closer and closer to the edge in our hesitation and quest for answers. We don’t want to fall over, and in our fear to do so we become more prone to make the wrong decisions. Decisions based on our tendency to regard things as either black or white. If I’m not smart, I’m stupid. If I’m not in good shape, I’m in bad shape. If I’m not successful, I’m unsuccessful. Decisions which make us derive from not only our fear but also our goals. The world is not black and white; it’s iridescent. We just have to remind ourselves at times.
I have this one friend I know will change the world one day, because she has a voice people silence to hear. She holds a successful career in the fashion industry, and like me, she has left Sweden behind her. We rarely have the chance to see each other but a few weeks back our roads aligned in one of the big cities of the World, and in the late night hours, we found time for wine and reflection.
“What’s your next step from here?” I asked her. And she replied. “You know Adam; I’m so tired of being forced to feel misfitted in a world I don’t mind to live in by that question.” Then she took a breath to hide a tone of exasperation. “You know, it will never matter if my name is recognized. If I earn more money than anyone in my entire family. If I make sure not to miss out on a single birthday or a single holiday. If I show that I’m actually happy where I am. Because as long as I haven’t spent three years despising my life while getting a degree, I’ll never really be more than a prostitute to either my family or the people who chose to stay behind.” I understood, and we didn’t need to say more. I knew the feeling, and I think most people whom ever deviated from the beaten path has. But it was relieving to hear her say it as well. It made me think once more how it’s not an easy task to go your way, but what’s sometimes even harder than finding your surrounding’s acceptance for your choices, is finding your own acceptance. The only one that actually matters. But I know that, and she knows that. I’m grateful to have someone like her in my life.
Sitting here today about to jump on a plane it dawns on me that for every time I come back here, I find a little more acceptance. I learned this time that sometimes it’s not until we put our new selfs into old perspectives and situations that we see the change that we’ve accomplished. How we talk, listen and carry ourselves around the people who only know our old versions. How we react differently and more importantly, understand differently what they say to us. How we all of sudden don’t need to worry about trying to present ourselves in a certain way because to our relief, it will take care of itself. And also, how people look at us differently, and despite how sad it sounds, how maybe we’ve needed them to, to look at ourselves a little bit differently as well. Small subtle hints to tell us, that we’re going the right way, and we’re allowed the time we need to find and hand in our purpose.
Where I am in life I’m slowly starting to understand that if there’s something I’ve learned from the people I’ve been so fortunate to cross roads with down the years, is that some people can’t be pacified. Some people need to see the world to change it, and the ones who don’t will never understand why. And that’s alright. Some questions don’t come with an answer. Some questions are perpetual and omnipresent, and they have to be to drive us forward. Because what greater incitement is there, than trying to make the unknown known?