When life happens.

Det som skulle blivit en härlig start på 2024, blev hjärtesorg.

Livet ändras hela tiden. Är tveksam på hur sugen jag är på att vara med i livets svängar.

Det skulle vara lättare om jag bosatte mig under en sten, struntade i relationer och bara blev en eremit.

Önskar att jag ville det.

Önskar att jag kunde kontrollera mer av det som bara händer, som går åt fel håll.

Önskar att jag hade mer makt.

Men det är bara dom som har pengar och dom som krigar som har makt. Kanske får jag bli en av dom.

Men jag vill inte döda någon.

Så jag väljer livet som eremit. Och går i íde.

Vi ses till våren!

Att åldras..

..kan betyda många saker.

Kris.

Ouppfyllda drömmar.

Uppfyllda drömmar.

Vilsenhet.

Säkerhet.

Att hitta sin egen plats i sin nya ålder.

Besvikelse.

Acceptans.

För mig betyder åldrandet utveckling.

Att ta mitt ansvar för det i livet som inte blivit som jag velat, ta den hjälp jag behöver för att ändra det. Få vägledning. Hitta vägar att styra vidare. Inte låta det gamla outtalade leva vidare i mig utan att värderas.

Det går inte ändra de förflutna. Det går inte spola tillbaka tiden. Jag kan inte påverka människors del i min process, deras inverkan på mig, på mitt liv som varit.

Men jag kan ta mitt ansvar nu!

”Man får inte leva om sitt liv, det är det som är grejen” (Jonas Gardell)

Åldrandet för mig betyder att se tillbaka på tider jag saknar, med tacksamhet.

Det betyder att ta lärdom av det jag inte varit nöjd med, lämna det ofärdiga bakom mig, ta med mig det fina och gå framåt mot någonting nytt.

Terapi är underskattat.

Att få hjälp är underskattat.

Att förlåta är svårt, men underskattat.

Vi tuggar på, lever på.

Dagarna passerar, en efter en.

Men någonstans stannar vi upp.

Står still. Andas. Känner efter.

Återställer processen.

Att åldras betyder ansvar, för utveckling, för mognad, för att värdesätta rätt saker, för att stänga dörrar och öppna dörrar.

Och gå vidare mot nästa steg!

Bild tagen på Comfort City Hotel i Göteborg

About being the ground people..

You see all the people with the good salaries. Buying houses, cars and vacation homes. You see them walking around in their suits and high heads and you can’t help wondering, ‘are they really happier than me?’.

I, one of the ground people with the average salary that has to consider my moves and expenses.

Are they, who don’t have to think at all, really more excited about life than me?

Are they enjoying their safe place in the world?

Are they happier with their relationships and in their families?

The real answer is ‘I have no idea’.

I don’t hang out with the top people. My circle consists of other ground people, average paid people, immigrants, “medelsvenssons” as we call them.

But even though I have absolutely no idea how the wealthy people feel about their lives and existence, I still envy them once in a while.

Even though I really am content with all my life accomplishments and happy with where I am and all I do..

..there are those days..

..the days that I get really tired.

..the days full of jealousy.

..the days where I get the utterly most intense longing for a life where I don’t have to think. Just spend, live, buy and give.

I really do know that grass is not always greener on the other side. But still..

There are those days that it surely looks that way.

And who knows. One day…

The most frightening thing

It’s 3 am in the morning and I’m stuck at Gothenburg central station waiting for my train.

I’ve chosen an awesome huge bench in the middle of the waiting hall where I set camp with my huge suitcase and my bag of sandwiches.

I’m sitting their, minding my own business, listening to the feminist podcast ‘Penntricket’ while coloring my post cards from my adult coloring book, when it happens.

A group of guys is approaching my corner, aiming to sit down next to me.

They are pretty young, I would guess in their early twenties. They are a handsome bunch of about 6-7 guys with different origins. They are probably a group of friends just hanging out on a Friday night.

And they are approaching my bench.

They are so loud. Like Buffaloes.
Roaming the waiting hall.

Now my mind tells me that I should
Understand that they are probably just regular guys having a good time on a Friday night. But having read facts about guys in groups, my fear conquers my mind and I say a quiet prayer that they will go sit somewhere else.

My prayer isn’t heard. They all sit down on my bench. The herd of buffaloes is invading my private waiting sphere.

They sit down for about 20 minutes.

They are still very loud, talking, roaming and joking around.

I’m ignoring them, focusing on my coloring.

They don’t bother me.

When the 20 minutes have passed..the guys stand up, shake their goodbyes and head for their bus that has arrived outside.

And I’m alone on the bench again.

It all went really well. No problems, no worries. I keep coloring as if nothing happened.

But it did.

Nothing physical. They buffaloes didn’t hurt a fly.

My soul however is forever damaged.

It so happens that there is nothing more scary in this world than guys in a group.

Rape. Fights. Attacks. All sorts of violent acts. Sexual harassment. Mental abuse.
Honor killings. Oppression.

Most often all performed by guys in a group. There are statistics.

Now I’m not normally a scared person. I have moved around the world a lot and always felt safe.

And I have an attitude. I’m neither timid or small. I know what I stand for.

But I’m telling you.

There is nothing more scary in this world, than guys in a group.

Buffaloes.

It’s time for you guys out there to realize that!

Vacation thoughts

This post is about a small observation that I have made during these past few days. 

I’m about 3 days in on my summer vacation and 4 weeks leave from work. So far I have biked a little, tanned a little and slept too little in fact. Whoever praised the Swedish bright nights never actually lived here. They totally suck for sleeping.  

Anyways, normally I have a BUSY life. I work 40 hours a week, I do worship at church, I volunteer for the Red Cross and well.. actually at the moment I am studying 50% on the side of work. I also help my friends out by the side..with some translating, writing essays in Swedish and random other stuff. So you can see I have a busy life.

I love it!

I love my busy life.

I’m recognized in my small town by many people and my engagements keep me social and active. I am addicted to social media and follow everything that happens on Facebook, instagram, Snapchat.. you name it. 

Like I said.. active! And I love it!

However, now I am on vacation. I have about 10 days that are aimed to doing nothing.. the rest of my vacation I will be traveling. But these 10 days I am supposed to relax. 

Research says that it takes about a week to slow down and calm down. That’s why Swedish vacation is 4 weeks. 1 week to calm down in the beginning and one week to get excited for work again at the end, and two relaxing weeks in the middle. 

I would say that I am pretty good at handling stress and impressions. The constant input from my surroundings in my everyday life is stimulating and I don’t fret to activate the notifications on my phone. On the contrary. The more the better. But now, here comes my small observation.

During these three vacation days that have already passed on my vacation.. I have found myself disactivating the notifications one by one, because it stresses me out. I found this most illogical. I am starting to calm down, I have all the time in the world and no obligations at the moment.. to be honest my brain is more or less on its way to empty..so there is a bunch of space. Still these notifications stresses me out. So I desactivate them.

One by one.

I know that it’s probably not that weird and I’m sure there is a bunch of research talking about how, when you relax into vacation mode you can handle less stress and disturbance than while you are on the move and ready for  anything coming your way. 

It’s just new.

New to me.

This spring has been mad. I haven’t been this busy in a long time. Running around, doing my stuff. Both work and my personal life has been mad and my involvement in my kids’ lives at work has never been higher. 

Now, suddenly, it’s time to let go. In a second.

Turn off your work phone, don’t think of those kids in need, pause from studies and leave your obligations behind. Relax.

And then I fall.

Down into a sensitive hole.

That where the sound of my phone is suddenly too loud and the message that I have been longing for from busy friends are too much, taking over. 

Taking over my empty space. My vacation space. My alone space.

So, right at this moment I am sitting on a bench in the wind and sun. Relaxing. I could be with people. But I don’t want to.

Because people talk too much. About stuff. And my brain is emptying. I don’t want to talk. My involvement in stuff is tuning down. I just wanna be. Don’t think.

I guess this is real big time vacation mode.

Welcome Matilda!

Settling.. contra productive?

I just added some stuff on my bucket list.

As I went through it I realize that I still have A L O T to do.

I’m still pretty young, but I think it’s fair to say that on some level my mind has started settling.

I have a job that I like with youths that I love. I have asmall, cute apartment where I have made myself at home. I live in a small town, which is not my idea of a perfect life, but for the past 6 years I have made myself at home. The smalltown charm of being familiar and cheerio with even the shop owners around here has become something pleasant. I have a church that I absolutely adore with all the imperfect people. I have a small car and a great bike with which I can take bike rides around the countryside. I have made friends. Some superficial, but some truly dear ones. I’m involved in serveral organisations in my town, volunteering, supporting, donating time for a good cause. All in all.. I have a good base for settlement.

However,  I’m not done yet with my bucket list.

Settling is a scary thought that I have resented most of my life. Still.. here I am, settling!

I haven’t achieved by far what I want to do yet, and I guess this blog entry is mostly a way to remind myself of that my dreams are still there. The bucket list is still filled with challenges I wish to accomplish.

When? How? With whom?

How can I make all of this come true?

Is settling contra productive when my list is growing every day? Who’s to say dreams can’t survive and be free in the middle of stagnation?

Well.. I don’t have any answers. But this is my way of awakaning my heart again..

There was a time when adventure was the only thing on my agenda. I miss that time. Even though I am growing, learning new things, finding the charm in sticking around, building relationships and a foundation.. I DO miss the adventure time at some extent.

It’s like a constant companion, the voice in my head whispering

“Don’t loose track of your goals!”

“Dream big! Dream on!”

“Wake up!!!!”

Is settling contra productive to what my heart is really longing for?

 

Paul Rusesabagina – RESPECT!

November 2013 I attended the “Human rights days” in Kulturhuset in Stockholm.

I went to this one seminar hosting the man Paul Rusesabagina. Here’s a picture..

For those of you who don’t know, he was the actual man that saved more than 1200 peoples lives by taking them into his hotel during the genocide of Rwanda in the 90’s. The man portrayed in the movie Hotel Rwanda. He was attending the conference and you can all see the interview here. 

That was in 2013… I watched the man, listened to the interview, but at that time, I knew nothing more about the story really.

Tonight, 2 years later, I am sitting on my couch on a Sunday night watching this movie and I am telling you, I really honesty wish I had paid him more respect on that day two years ago.

There was nothing that could have prepared me for this movie. No speech, no preaching, no nothing. Because nothing can prepare you for watching this kind of cruelty, where a whole group of people are being wiped out from the face of the earth, for the simple reason of being born into a certain category at a certain time. By other humans on a cruel, incomprehensible mission of extinction.

There are too many stories in our history books touching this subject. Too many horrifying numbers of people being slaughtered for unspeakable reasons. As if there is not enough people dying in the world already for other reasons. Too many inhuman, heartless, cold blooded actions to be counted, and accounted for.

There is simply too much of this!

So watching this incredible movie, I wept. And wept. And wept.

Because this movie is not only touching the subject of Rwanda and how the west abandoned an African country desperately in need. It is an ongoing story today.. The targets are constantly changing, but the history is being repeated over and over again. Like a never ending story.

I see it in the eyes of the young adults I meet at work. I see it in the stories of the refugees I meet in my church. I see it in the people of the streets of my safe country.

Some of my friends walked for weeks, barefoot, across cities, countries, in the dark night, without any lead. Some crossed the sea in tiny boats loaded with hundreds of people. Some lost their whole family. Almost everybody lost everything.

Why?

Because of cold blood, hatred and to be honest, politics, power and money. These are the roots of all evil.

There is no end to the love and compassion I feel for these people. My friends. My fellow humans. My brothers and sisters. No end of my admiration for their bravery and struggle.

Yet, I stand on the other side. Privileged. Watching. Weeping.

This movie touched me. Hotel Rwanda, a movie about a brave mans action during  genocide in the past, stirring up all my emotions concerning current ongoing conflicts.

Hotel Rwanda.

An important movie which will not leave you untouched.

And Paul Rusesabagina.

To you.. all my R-E-S-P-E-C-T and blessings.

You are an extraordinary man!

 

To all the immigrants in Sweden – Respect!

There is nothing more mentally exhausting than being in a room full of people speaking a language one doesn’t quite understand. 

Listening, mentally registering words in your mind. Smiling, because there is just no other polite face to make in this situation. Relaxing in your chair, because being on the edge is no point, you still won’t laugh when everybody else laughs. Trying hard to stay awake, even though the constant flow of voices and unfamiliar words slowly rocks you into a numb slumber..

Gatherings of these sorts are the most extremely tiring thing that makes you want to sleep all day long.
I promised myself when I started travelling, discovering this that I, myself, would do everything in my power not to put people in this situation. To always stand by and help translating to make sure nobody is left out.

I know that I failed sometimes, but it was ALWAYS with the very best intentions to include everyone as much as possible. 

I guard these lessons close to my heart, to live by!

So, my message to all of you immigrants out there in my country today, is that 

I feel you!

More often than not, I put myself in these kind of challenging language situations. It is just who I am. My curiosity drives me and never ceases. So I have been in your shoes. However there is one crucial difference between us that separate us.

I do it voluntarily! For many of you it wasn’t a choice!

So, to all of you out there who came to Sweden involuntarily, through war or crisis, with a will to survive and start over. To all of you who truly is struggling with this complicated language of mine, doing everything in your power to adopt out customs and ways of expression.

Respect! 

You are incredibly brave and I honor you who give everything while taking these steps into my culture.

My experience has always been  a choice, yours is not. I know this. I respect you deeply and promise you that from my  part I will do everything I can to make it easier for you!

Respect! 

You are always with me!

You are with me! You are always with me!

Every time i pass by a Play ground for children.
When I go to the local lake to take a swim.
When I witness a kid in the store whining about not getting the new toy car.
When I take a walk in my safe town, where kids can visit each other freely without risk.

Here, where life is easy, luxurious and safe.
Where there is no risk of a bomb destroying your play.
Where there is no need for a single thought about arms and legs being torn apart by a grenade. 
Where there is no general fear of loosing yet another parent, or brother, sister or uncle. 

I have never been there. In the midst of war. I have not yet stood in the eye of destruction and despair, where nothing is certain. I do imagine that it is possible to find joy even there.  But God knows, you are with me here. 

All you beautiful, innocent children left in cities of ruins, bits and pieces of what used to be your safe home. 

You are with me. In my heart. In my prayers.
Playing, laughing, jumping around, hugging, teasing.. Without any care in the world!

I carry you with me! 

Always!

They came across the sea..

This week I have been blessed with some wonderful moments of sharing with some of the youth I met at my daily work. What we have we share, love and life stories.

Stories of how these particular youngsters ended up in Sweden. Their way. Their sacrifice. Their loss. Their sorrows. Their gratefulness and their fears.

What I see..is their strength.

Young boys (the majority are boys) who already lived a life time of a hundred years, experienced more pain, separation and heartbreak than most of us ever will.

Boys who have seen their cities, houses, childhood memories being torn apart, shattered, destroyed in front of their eyes.

Incredible, wonderful boys who have already felt too much hurt in separation and partings from family, friends and loved ones.

Young boys who are no longer boys, but have become men, with a lost childhood.

  
These boys came with the boats. The same kind of boat that goes down in the mediterranian sea. Thousands of people lost on the waves. These boats contains boys that could have been at my work today. At school. In my life.

Lost boys who disappeared.

Lost boys looking for life.

I am so blessed!

Because I am safe. Because i am born in the “right” country. Because I haven’t yet lived through these kinds of situations as these boys.

But mostly I am blessed because I every day get the chance to meet these young men. These young, beautiful, strong, sensitive men, who did not deserve this.

Our meetings are filled with sharing of life stories, affection, guidance on their journey into this new, different society and humbleness towards life.

I am learning so much. Loving so much.

I am blessed because I get the opportunity to love them.

These boys came across the sea.

They took the road of death, to find freedom, opportunity, a future. They lived.

The ones who died are now in my prayers. Lord have mercy on their souls.

  

These boys came across the sea…

..and today, they are all part of me!