Creating Kings and Queens
My next sentence might be a bit over the top, but I believe it's true. I am one of the most free individuals on this earth. Without children, a partner, or living parents, I'm independently pursuing my own project about lesbian life in Europe. How is it? A fair question. I could describe my path as climbing the Himalayas. I have left my comfort zones in every way, but for me, it's all about the gut. If you’re fortunate enough to pursue a project you love, you might connect with your gut — with what's raw and real — but that’s not guaranteed. It was my mother's death that made me suddenly realize my time is short, and whatever I was dreaming about NOW was the time to do it. That was the wake-up call I needed to break free and start living, listening to that small voice inside that speaks so clearly if you can hear it.
When I was working as a full-time journalist, I occasionally glimpsed a world beyond time and space. Now, I access that world daily, and it changes the game. I am now more clear and focused. I experience joy and play like a little girl. It's as though I'm now surfing on my energy, something I'd never even done before. That is a skill everybody should learn – understanding your own energy. What surprised me was the time it took to get a basic understanding of needs like; when am I actually hungry and tired? This basis isn't what we think of when we consider breaking free from the system. Knowing what I know now, I would say the liberation of my body has been essential! For years, I slept poorly, sometimes a mere four hours, yet performed well. Clearly, the eight-hour rule isn't for everyone. Turns out, I'm nocturnal! Isn't it funny how the system tries to shoehorn us into one-size-fits-all molds? I used to think I was somehow malfunctioning. Now I know, I just operate on a different sleep setting.
Other challenges arose: What text to write? How should my platforms look? What images do I want? What language to use? How will I write in English? In many ways, it’s like being a child again, guided by curiosity, fun, discipline, courage, obsession, desire, stubbornness, and gut. My inner rebel challenges every "you can't," by saying, "I just did!”
I aim to create authentic meetings with people outside the scripted narrative, which I believe is the key to another's wilderness — their inner life, their fingerprints. I have come to the conclusion that the best way to do it is to be present. Instead of interviews, I have conversations. I have written many texts in my life where local politicians did their best to not answer the questions. The traditional interview is often a setup to make a point. I think one of our biggest mistakes is that we think and act as if we live in the external world, when we all know deep down that our lives unfold within. How could journalism based on that idea look like?
We’re complex beings, yet often avoid our inner depths. We take pills for unhappiness, weight issues, loneliness — as if we’ve abdicated from being human. I even had a doctor who, after five minutes of talking to me, wanted to give me antidepressants. I asked why. She said, “You seem to be having a hard time.” I replied, “Yes, I am grieving my mother. She died a few months ago. Are you saying a pill will take away the pain?” She never wrote that prescription.
It is scary to enter the world with emotions that are so painful it feels like your left arm has been cut off, leaving you with no clue as to when the pain will go away. My mother was there when I took my first breath. I was there for her last. Nothing can prepare you for that moment. The beauty of it is that in that pain lie maps to your own and other people's hearts. I believe we are never alone in our grief.
The danger of taking the short cut and numbing the pain with pills, drugs, sex, sugar, or whatever we use to avoid facing our feelings, is that we risk losing our map. We risk losing our ability to be fully alive and connect. Like mushrooms, we have invisible threads that connect us to each other. My point: how do we become the kings and queens of our own lives? Living in the wilderness reveals that to be a human being and discover your fingerprints takes time. Actually, everything we want to excel in takes time. From learning to make the best omelet to writing the best text. In my new life, it’s clear to me that quality takes time and it is ok. I've long suspected our high tempo is detrimental; our rush to reach whatever we are in such a hurry to reach makes me wonder if we believe we are immortal machines.
After my decision to leave my fulltime job I had a few relapses. The job I had does not grow on a tree. I will probably never work as a fulltime journalist again. Had I made a mistake? You come to a point when you think, "Am I going mad?" then you realize it's just fear and the unfamiliar. It’s like arriving late to a dark, rainy landscape you've never seen before — it scares you, you wonder where you will sleep and eat. Then you figure things out: you find a hotel, food, a warm bed. And at sunrise, you see how beautiful and green the landscape is and you say: “Why did I not do this earlier?!” The truth is I'm now in situations with versions of myself I've never before met. It’s very exciting. I have no idea how I’ll react, and no guarantee I’ll ever reach the top of the mountain. Yet, I take steps daily, trusting that whatever I need to figure out and learn unfolds in them.
By now you might ask, what do I mean by this wilderness talk? How can I describe the undescribable? I believe I am the same human that walked on earth 100,000 years ago. I feel closer to a bird, a fish, a tree than to a computer or anything man made. I strongly feel that I am just a brief visitor, and I need wild nature to live. The problem is its so little of the wild left. Perhaps, in the end, it's about the child you never lost. It's about being authentic and true to your soul.
I’ve found my door to the place where time and space vanish, where everything is silent— just me and whatever I am creating. My project explores how lesbians live today, but beneath it lies a meta-story: about a Swedish woman choosing to live outside the boxes defined by others. Sometimes people ask, "What if you fail?" I respond, "Excuse me? How could I possibly fail living from my heart, giving it my all?”
