Sunday thoughts (11)

Life is a little bit like the stairs up to my apartment. 

I walk up two stairs and come to a big window, where I can see half the sun over the roof of the building next doors. Then I walk up a couple more stairs, and by the next window, the sun is shining golden in my face. I feel it in my back as I continue walking. But it’s darker on the next platform, always a little bit darker on the platforms by the doors until I turn around again and take the stairs up to the next window. And finally by my door, I open it and walk through the corridor. And suddenly I’m in the living room. And suddenly I can sit still for a bit in the sunshine. 

That’s what it’s like to deal with things. They get better, but then it gets a bit darker again. We see more light, but then we keep going upwards and it feels like we’re moving away from the sun. But we’re just moving higher, and as time goes on we’ll end up in a place where we can see it better than ever before.

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(But even then, being healed does not mean always seeing the sun. It just means dwelling in that high place and knowing that we all have our own ways of moving through light and darkness.)

Germany

So, I moved to Germany to volounteer work at The White Rabbit Arts. It’s pretty nice here. Very german. Like really, I think I’ve only ever lived in really international communities, even when I’ve been abroad. So just being in a new country, in an apartment full of people who mainly speak german, is different. It’s like actually moving.

And so far I think that Germany is:

1. Warmer than Sweden. Not by much, but a little warmer.

2. Bigger. Obviously. Nürnberg is a pretty big city, and there’s just more people here in general, which means that you can walk down the street and find a random four story book store with a little café hidden inside. In Sweden that would go into bankruptcy within a week if it wasn’t in Stockholm or something.

3. More social. Slightly, at least? Once again, I quite like it.

So, here’s a collection of pictures, from the train station (interesting), my apartment and writing out my letters to the people who support my volounteer work.

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Hugs in german to you✽

Trainride

A few days ago I took a 20 hour train ride from my hometown in Sweden, to Nürnberg, Germany.

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Some trains were full, some empty. The last train was from 4.30 til 9 in the morning, from Hamburg to Nürnberg, and that did not look like the picture below. It was overbooked, so I got woken up three times by people saying I was in their seat. In the end I sat in the corridor. But all in all, everything went well. All the connections worked and I didn’t get stuck in some random german small town in the middle of the night, which was my biggest fear to be honest.

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And I managed to somehow fit my fluffiest duvet in my suitcase, which was really all that mattered. And now I guess I live here in Nürnberg. Like really live, since I have my duvet with me. Sheets and towels and even my fairy lights. My room is dreamy. I’ll show you sometime.

Good night.

Motivation

I’ve always been more motivated by what I don’t want than by what I do want.

This fear has served me well. It has sent me out of the ordinary, out of where I don’t want to be. I think about the Twenty pilots song Leave the city that admits to not knowing where you’ll end up, or Brené Browns book Braving the wilderness, about leaving our clearly pronounced structures and stern belief systems.

And it reminds me of what a lot of people seem to be going through at the moment, or have been going through for a while. Churches, ministries, or just people. We know we’re not exactly where we should be, and so we lay things down, move out, take the first step in trust even if we don’t know where we’ll end up. The wilderness, or trench, as Twenty One Pilots call it, is scary, because it’s where we don’t have all the answers. And now we’re out here, not knowing the answers. 

It’s made me to think about my competitiveness. If you’ll stay with me for a moment:
I’m extremely competitive. Always have been. But it’s much more important to me to not lose, than it is to win. It’s bad, I think. People motivated by winning and succeeding will do anything for it, they’re fighters and victors. But for me: if there’s a chance I’ll lose I might not even want to try in the first place.

This is obvious in other parts of my life as well. I’m very motivated by what I don’t want. What kind of life I don’t want, what I don’t want to do, who I don’t want to be. The most motivating sentence to me has always been: “But what if I’m not?” in response to “What if I’m too scared to do all the things I’ve ever wanted.” My point: I am fully aware of what I’m moving away from.

Too aware.

Truth is, anyone can be a rebel. And our courage has served us well. So has our eagerness to obey God, to move out into uncertainty. But I’ve been out in the wilderness for a while now, and the problem with it not being a place for answers is that there still seems to be no answers. And so what I’ve decided is this: There comes a moment, out in the dust – with that city looming in the background – when we have to stop looking back at what we left and turn our heads to where we want to go. 

It is time to stop being motivated by what we don’t want and start being motivated by what we do want. If it hasn’t yet, the looking back, the awareness of what you don’t want, will make you desperate. What takes actual maturity is to look forward. To make a choice and move towards it. To be brave enough for what you want, even if you think you don’t know (Which, you do, you actually do, otherwise you wouldn’t have left that other place behind. It might just not be in the shape you think a dream should be.) Grow up, look forward. Maybe it’s a mirage, that city you see in the distance, I can’t promise that it’s not. There’s no way to see from this distance.

But I know you’ll never know if you don’t start moving towards it. 

Goodbye (again)

(Sunday 11/6)

I say again without knowing when last time saying it was. I feel like I’ve said a lot of goodbyes, but maybe that’s just generally a very human thing.

Anyway, I travel to america in a bit more than a week. My sister has graduated and all my relatives celebrated her and said goodbye to me. Today I led the meating in church and they prayed for me before I go. Happy happy sad sad.

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Graduatioooon

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Spending some time with the cousins so that they don’t forget me when I’m gone.

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The whole family, out in the garden a random summer evening at nine pm.

A lot of ‘lasts’, makes everything shine a little brighter.

Night.

Runner

You told me how I always fell in love with cars and not with houses, looked at a backpack with a smile but at a bookshelf with an aching heart. I was always going. I’m a runner and a poet, life pulls me in different directions. Keeps me going and makes my heart want to stay with what I find. I can look out the window of a bus and get the sudden urging need to remember every tree I see, to sit down under every single one and have picnic and the best day of my life. You don’t have to go far, and we don’t have to run, but I have to keep moving so that as many things as possible in this universe get the attention they deserve.