Full Circle

The ebb and flow of life is as inevitable as the tide itself. Nothing is forever. Such is what makes life exactly that: the opposite of death. My friends have all gone their ways once again. One by one, in a rather short span of time, they have moved on to the new and the different. They aren’t necessarily gone by any means, but distance grows. Though some are, indeed, on their way to “gone.” Similarly, I watch the demise of many other important parts of my life, from my workplace to my writing group. Life happens, and that is that.

While some things are on their way out, others are on their way in: such as my artist project. We’re doing well. I’m finding my way into this beautiful world of art and literature. Slowly. Painfully. But in nonetheless. I’m also returning to photography — to making art. It’s been a long time, and it’s very rewarding. Even if I’m the only one who actually sees the work. I do it for me. Now I have this apartment, and I’m spending what little time I have working on it. Growing everything comes afterwards.

Life in Iceland is missing something, however. A friend and I both know what that is: it’s immersion and integration. It’s fascinating finding myself surrounded by Icelandic creatives through my artist project. It’s a world that was always just out of reach before. Now, the separating factor is language. Yes, I’ve been learning Icelandic for over a year now, but I never have a chance to engage with the language. So, this friend and I decided to go off to a small town to simply immerse in Icelandic for an entire month. No English; that’s the rule.

Here, my life comes full circle. There just so happens to be one small town in the middle of nowhere which I am very fond of. It’s the town where, two years ago, I found myself. Not Siglufjörður, rather an even smaller town on Snæfellsnes. With the help of the friend who first brought me there, we found a place to stay for the month of May. We will be living with two creatives in a town filled with other Icelandic creatives. We may even have the chance to host events there like my open mics. The best part is, we decided on this and planned it out within the span of five days.

It reminds me of why I came to this country: to experience life. It works out that those previously mentioned parts of my life are ebbing away. It makes me feel free to take a month off, like I won’t necessarily miss too much. Language learning aside, this trip feels like it will be one of the most significant experiences of my entire life. I’ll be going with all my new camera gear, a very eager mind, and a heart filled to the absolute brim. I plan to read, write, photograph, and study all day, every day.

The events that led to me ending up in this small town for the first time were absolutely profound. Now, I find myself going back, two years later. It’s beautiful in many ways. I went there first while in the worst place of my entire life. Now I return in my best. Truly full circle. I’m very eager for this trip.

For the time being, my life is defined by my calendar. Tomorrow, for example, I must get up at 7am so I can hopefully read a book I promised to finish within the next three days (I read two pages so far). Then, I need to drop off a router, then meet my Icelandic teacher, then teach Icelandic, then clean my old apartment. My day is scheduled out from waking to sleeping. Those few things include 100 minutes of walking from place to place. I worked last night, getting home at 10pm. I worked this morning, needing to get up at 6:30am. I simply don’t have time to do anything. It’s too much, and it’s overwhelming.

Yet I continue onwards because I want to live. I work myself to exhaustion today because I know that this is a temporary conundrum which will result in life tomorrow. Many of my seemingly unending projects come to a close this week, hence my being so busy. Step by step.

In the back of my mind are all the mistakes and regrets, all the unanswered questions and unfound clarity. I look at some of the situations of my life and wonder what the future holds. There is no certainty. But that’s alright. I now have the life experience to know how to both find and build what I want. I could start over from scratch if I wanted/needed to. I don’t want to. But I could.

However, the desire to run away has never left me. All my life, the only thing I wanted was to go off to the middle of nowhere so I could be alone and left in peace. Fighting that desire has been difficult. I usually follow it. That’s what brought me to Siglujförður. That’s what made me consider moving to Finland. That’s what makes it so easy for me to go off to a small town for a month. I wonder whether I should move to Akureyri or spend the rest of my days traveling around the small towns of Iceland. I wonder whether I really should go to another country.

I want peace. I don’t enjoy answering messages all day, waiting for replies, writing emails, living according to such a ruthless schedule. I want to wake up — just for one day — and ask myself, “What should I do today?” I miss that. I miss the need to pour out my heart and soul into art and paper. I say that this will all be worth it in the end, but will it? If I don’t trust that it will be, then I have nothing. The irony being that I don’t have much to begin with.

I don’t know what will happen. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know what I want. I wrote three posts before this that I won’t publish. One was about how I’ve written 16 posts that I didn’t publish (I’m now at 18). Why? I don’t know. Maybe I feel like they’re either too personal or border on complaining about something.

It’s easy to look at people and make assumptions. From the outside, people see me as having a strong sense of purpose and direction. Someone who changed my life told me they were drawn to me because I “seemed like I had my life figured out.” That couldn’t be farther from the truth. I do think I’ve done a lot. But doing a lot doesn’t have any relationship to the inner self. I’m just as lost as everyone else. Perhaps the only difference being that I actually do things as opposed to simply thinking about doing something.

Regardless, I’m trying my best. Everything I grasp at ultimately ends up slipping through my fingers. It’s frustrating. It causes quite a lot of pain, grief, and sadness. But I’m not going to walk around with a frown, saying “woe is me.” Of course I’m going to appear put-together.

I’ve been reading my old blogs, looking back on where I came from. I found a piece I forgot I wrote. It expresses a lot of what I feel:

The wind flowed gently through the trees. Shaking leaves whispered their sorrows. All the things the trees have seen: creaking branches, their weeping. I looked up to the sun: the dim glow offered its frown. Trees? it seemed to mock, what life on earth is worth living? The sun would know best. Its unrelenting battery is too much for man to bear. Only the trees would stand if the sun had its way. And the trees would watch the world burned to the ground.

I carried along into the setting sun. Each step towards it carried me back. No man can outrun the earth – these cosmic bodies set in motion against us. Not even the moon offers solace: to know the moon is to know darkness. As with the stars who shine down their false hopes. What wishes would we make? For anything we wish, they would twist our words into cruel reality. “I want peace,” I would beg. And they would answer: “You may know peace. We shall show you peace. You shall know it. So that we can tear it from your hands.”

Similarly, here’s a piece I read last week:

“Want,” I said, “is that my sin? Are the stains I bear of tears and blood borne of my desire? Did I wish for a life? Did I wish to live? Did I wish for a home and a place to grieve? Did I wish upon the passing stars and pray before the burning flame? Did the sin that to you did I commit consist of none but hope? I vowed to you nothing. I gave to you nothing. I want from you nothing. I am, to you, nothing.”

And Fate smirked: “Happiness? Is that what you seek? How I once longed to be free. But when you look up to the sky, what is it that you see? If not the stars and sun and moon, if not the skies and clouds of rain, if not the life that you have wrought, then what is it that you see? Because when I look down on this sorrowful world, I see only one thing. And that sorrowful, sorrowful thing is nothing other than you. You say to me I’m not your friend, you beg of me to let it end, but where are you now? Perhaps this may be the day when all shall come to change. For if you did not know me, never would you beauty.”

The above is from Tragedy which I read at my last open mic. Yes, life is filled with pain and suffering, but that is what leads us to beauty in the end. I have a deep appreciation for all that has taken place, as difficult as it was. Even now, as cracks form around me, I know to accept and appreciate them. So long as they are around, there is motivation for me to write and make art. I may as well make something out of the darkness rather than succumbing to it. Then, of course, after a week or two, everything will be different. Hopefully I can afterwards spend a week basking in the sun. As for this moment alone, I traded tonight’s sleep for this writing. I haven’t the slightest clue what I’m doing.