When I get back home

I wanted to write something about going on adventures of your own- even after you found someone who would walk there beside you to any corner of the world. Now, this might not fit everyone's idea of a relationship- but it is an important value and hope in mine. With so much time spent walking this earth solo, making plans and taking planes, hikes- breathing out after a past I left behind- I have grown fond of this feeling- the freedom, the time to myself. It is a part of me I will always need- a hug that no one else could give.

Being someones companion- team- does not always mean walking with you, beside you- literary. It is just as much about giving space- showing understanding. Be happy for the other part going out there in the world and gaining the strength and peace that they need. And I guess in a lot of ways staying sane for themselves- and through that for others. Understanding that, is love.

So, there will be times when I need me, breath in, remind myself that I am here with me. It is nothing personal. Just a promise I have given myself.
I will not need you all the time, but you will be on my mind.

But when I get back, wrap a blanket around me
- in our living room or on an airplane.
A warm understanding, that is the greatest gift to me.

Comments

Are you not lonely ? (and my stay in a small bothy at the Isle of Canna)

Loneliness for me is a common feeling while travelling solo, don't think (when you are following my adventures on social media) that I am immune to it. I like the solitude at times, and it builds a stronger relationship with myself, to do this on my own that is, but I often wish I had found my companion. I keep turning every rock, stair into wells to see a reflection next to me, stay open minded and socialise at home. I wander to all corners of the world, I am on all the apps- talk to locals. I am not shy. But so far he has not been found. I have (in moments of hilarious lighthearted desperation) even tried to go back in time Outlander style, if he is not in 2024, maybe in 1878. Perhaps a man from the Bridgerton era. Times are tough, and there are not plenty of available healthy mature fish in the sea, perhaps an old tire, but fish- well most of them have been caught by now, or they were let back into the sea for a reason. The trash never even made it to shore, people do not want ...

An intuitive journey back to my solo travels

For the past few years I have had a fallback in writing. A lack of inspiration and a feeling that I had already written about "it all", or the things I really wanted to say at least. Perhaps it is the SSRI medication that for the past 4 years have been numbing (in a good way) my anxiety- but also keeping my head away from mind loops, or perhaps I just got to the end of it- let out all the biggest of Roars. But, whatever it is that has made me write less, I will make sure to not stop completely. I do enjoy this too after all, it is not only an outlet for something anxious, it was always supposed to be more than that. Something to lift spirits, bright up days, encourage others to live (or continue too) live their best and most for-filling lives. So, I decided to go through my solo travels, one by one. Because what might not have been obvious through these text through the years (that is- mainly from the summer of 2016 forwards), is that I went on adventures, on my own (mostly)...

Little Sparrow (about self perception)

I wanted to write down something about self perception. How our looks, physical strength and the way we sound and come across to others, affect the way we see ourselves, how we feel about ourselves. My mission here was not to write about the make-up on our face or that eye catching dress we could wear. But rather the people...humans we are. The ones we will always be. For a long time I had quite a low confidence. That low confidence came from how I perceived myself, and I still struggle with that from time to time. You see I knew I was small, short, clumsy, sometimes a bit chubby (boys nickname for me in Pre-school was Christmas ham) and later just small as a twig. I had struggles in finding that voice inside, and when I did I was afraid that that voice was too big- not suitable to this body of mine. I was afraid of being too loud.. too annoying.. I became quiet...awkward... and at moments invisible trying to keep the awkwardness away from daylight. Sometimes it sprang...

Roar in the Afterglow

Search This Blog