When I’m jumping over the gate in Cuvin, Orion’s Belt is hovering over the hill behind the house, almost touching the ground, like a rope ladder from the sky providing an escape. I look back over the garden a last time, Treia, the three legged “guard”dog with celebrity status in the village, is snoring softly. And in this moment, what I’m leaving behind makes me far more sad than the future makes me excited. I cry silently into my scarf when the street, so known to me, is replaced by the long stretch of asphalt leading all the way to Budapest.
And then the last trip for a while, to Sweden via Budapest.
We’re traveling in good company, Dan, Elise, Martha, Sam and Johanna are about to jump on 5 different flights to different destinations. We get to the airport around 8 and set up a camp in the corner of an outside cafe, Martha boards first, on her way to Malmö, Elise goes next, on her way to Seattle via England, Dan to Wales and now, at eight o’clock, many card games, coffees and conversations later, me and N have just waved goodbye to Johanna and Sam that are boarding their planes to England and Sweden.
12 hours at Budapest AirPort has provided me with enough buzz to get distracted from the big – what now then? I’ll enter Swedish ground with neither job nor any set future accommodation, and with the distance between the ground and me are getting further, and this long cold country of mine are getting closer, the questions are making summersaults in my head.
What now, what now, what now?
I am not the kind of person who gets excited about the blank canvas looking future, When people clap their hands together and smilingly screams “but that means you can do WHATEVER YOU WANT” I get completely stressed out. I don’t want to just make my own cocktail of hobbies and fill in he gaps with some volunteering for a good course. I want my everyday to mean something, I want it all to be filled with purpose and having my internal compass set on a good course.
But it’s mostly a silent cruise on that ocean again, that blank canvas of nothingness in wait for a breeze.
N use to half jokingly say that I was born for times of war. That in extremely chaotic and pressured situations is when I function as best. Flex and go, no time for thoughts of consideration. So what now, when I’m surrounded by infrastructure and systems, central heating and busses that come when they say there are. Where will I find my place?
It’s one more hour to go before I put my feet on Swedish territory, and the only answer to my questions is the most gentle whisper, more like a first glimps of landscape covered in fog than a sentence. And the answer is the future, the what now is a coming later, and all I have to trust, is that it’s all in a safe pair of hands.
Now time to put my feet on Swedish ground, for real.