Greetings dear readers from… Stockholm! I’m spending a few days as a city girl, acclimating to the timezone, walking the gator (streets in Swedish!), getting a head start on my farmer’s tan. In a couple days I’ll take a four-hour train ride north into the countryside to begin my pilgrimage of St Olav’s Way.
During this week’s prep, I was knee deep in irrational big-trip anxiety. My medley of catastrophizing included car accidents, twisted ankles, treehouse snafus. I even had a good solid stress dream, watching my imaginary rowboat (???) get sucked into a vortex with my passport on the seat. Sheesh.
Relief swept in on Tuesday when everything was finally packed (top left photo in the collage below!) and the window closed on anything that could go wrong. Passport in my pocket, my airport chauffeur Kendall gave me a kiss goodbye.
Off I went.
Here I am.
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Stockholm is an emerald green, brown-bricked delight. When I texted pics to Connor, his response: “It’s like a fairytale, ma!”
“Buddy, you have no idea!” I responded. “My taxi cab was playing ABBA, there are Volvos everywhere, and the street outside my hotel is named after Oden!”
“Too good! Thor’s dad!”
In this land of gnomes, elves, and pagan gods, I can feel myself slowing down. Sinking in. Like a caterpillar spinning its cocoon, I’ve paused my outer world responsibilities so I can give myself to goo. I just hope that by this time next month I’ve started to reform into something with a skeleton again.
Serendipitously, my English friend Paul is 2,000 miles away, mid-pilgrimage on the Camino de Santiago. During our WhatsApp check-in this morning, he was extolling the virtues of the path. The simplicity and opportunity of the stripped-back life. The combo platter of nature and blisters to bring you into the here and now.
His parting words to me:
“Let’s go and get to know ourselves a little bit better.”
See you… and me… on the other side,
Sue
P.S. Here are some of our most popular posts on transitions, facing the unknown, and getting out of your comfort zone:
Post #31: Not all progress feels like progress. Sometimes it feels like limbo.
Post #39: From lifequake to lemonade. The way you tell your story matters.
Post #48: Allowing reality to be on your side. Surrender, the hard way and the easy way.
Post #65: Reimagining transition as expansion. I’m just a crab who has outgrown its shell.
#78: Alive, awake, participatory, and engaged. A widow’s advice for facing big transitions.
> Subscribe to have the Luminist delivered to your inbox every Saturday, in both written and audio format, at theluminist.substack.com.
