The Timing of Things
They say that things come to you when the time is right. I don't know exactly who "they" are, but I think they are right. Maybe not in all cases, though I would agree even the chicken pox came exactly when they needed to come. I recall that day - as I woke up a little itchy - saying how I could really use a break. Well, I got it - the Chicken Pox Vacation, ten days away from "it all." I wrote, got drunk several times with a friend who'd had them as a child, and played games (actual board games) with another who likewise braved the risk of infection. That was February 2009. I remember because a woman I kind of liked asked me to a Super Bowl Party and I didn't go - because of the pox. Or so I seem to recall. A decade later, I really don't know. I guess that party wasn't where I was supposed to be. And clearly, she wasn't the one. But I did get the break I'd wanted so badly.
Last April, I met a woman on a train in Norway. We both got on in Oslo. Our destination - Bergen. It's a long train ride, something like eight hours, and it wasn't until we were well past the halfway point, that we did more than smile politely at one another. She was Swedish. I knew this because she carried a plastic bag from a store I recognized from Gothenburg (where I'd been the week before) and - probably more telling - because she was reading a novel written in Swedish. At the time, I'd been studying Swedish (I could kick myself for giving it up in favor of abject laziness) and when I glanced surreptitiously at the book, I recognized the language. She was older, maybe mid to late sixties, and, like me, traveling alone.
We both seemed content in our silence, but at one point she spoke. "You are American?" she asked me in Swedish. I'm always inclined to answer that I'm Canadian, but I am also always inclined to honesty. I answered affirmatively in English. Then I simply stated, "And you are Swedish." How did I know? I told her I'd spied her book. She asked if I'd heard of the author, Linda Olsson. When I said that I had not, she insisted that I needed to read her. She was reading A Sister in My House, but told me I should read Astrid and Veronika. She looked me directly in the eye (eye contact: something I'm not great with) and said, "I know you will enjoy it." As I looked away nervously, she added, "You can find it in English, I'm sure."
Less than five minutes later, I'd ordered a paperback copy from Amazon. A few days after I returned from Europe, it was in my mailbox. I started it immediately. Then ordered a copy in Swedish. I can promise you, I'd never done that before - ordered a book a random woman on a train recommended. Granted I got it used for like $4.99 and free shipping, but still. And all this was before she warned me about the seven mountains that surround Bergen.
Woman: What are you doing in Bergen?
Me: Running.
Woman: You do know that Bergen is surrounded by seven mountains?
Me [in my head]: She has to be wrong.
She wasn't. About anything. Not the mountains (Hilliest place I have ever run, not to mention the only place I've ever feared sliding down an icy hillside to my death while hiking). And she certainly wasn't wrong about the book. I can't say it was an enjoyable read - for a skinny little book, it was pretty heavy - but it was necessary. And it's why I decided to make some changes in my life.
I won't bore you by recounting the entire plot here. Suffice it to say that the book is about a reclusive older woman (Astrid) living in a little house in the Swedish countryside. She's hateful and irascible until a young woman (Veronika), with a few demons of her own, moves in next door and slowly draws her out. An unlikely friendship develops and both women find themselves changed.
Before reading the book, I was well on my way to being Astrid. I was happier by myself (Truth be told, I probably still am) and had been pushing most of the important people in my life away for some time. I was ok with superficial friends and acquaintances, but that was it. I wanted, and I vehemently pursued, a completely solitary life. Then I realized......... The more I pulled away from the world, the more it pulled away from me. If I wasn't careful I was going to end up like Astrid - not just old and alone, but also fearful of the outside world.
So, I made a conscious change. I decided to cultivate closer friendships with select people. Yes, I did this absolutely 100% consciously. Look, being social - for as social as I may seem - isn't in my wheelhouse, so to speak. I prefer to wrap myself in a warm cloak of introversion and hide from the world. In order to step out into said world, I have to push myself out of my comfort zone. Be social or pet a snake? Seriously, these were about even in my mind for a long time. And still are on many occasions.
Ten months later, I can say that I have friends again. I've reconnected with old friends and I've made a couple new ones. I meet people for lunch and dinner, coffee most often. Even though I seldom do the dialing, I pick up the phone when people call. Not too long ago, I ran with a group of people I'd never met before (I know, right?!?) I can't say I have a herd of friends (the mere idea of that makes me nauseous), but I do have a good, solid two I would call my go-tos and a good, solid three maybe four others that I truly enjoy spending time with.
To the Swedish woman on the train from Oslo to Bergen who recognized something in me - or maybe just recommended a book she liked - thank you. Astrid and Veronika was just what I needed. And to all of you, if you are ever in Norway, take the train from Oslo to Bergen. Spend the time. Enjoy the scenery. You won't regret it. And you just might meet someone who changes your life.
Last April, I met a woman on a train in Norway. We both got on in Oslo. Our destination - Bergen. It's a long train ride, something like eight hours, and it wasn't until we were well past the halfway point, that we did more than smile politely at one another. She was Swedish. I knew this because she carried a plastic bag from a store I recognized from Gothenburg (where I'd been the week before) and - probably more telling - because she was reading a novel written in Swedish. At the time, I'd been studying Swedish (I could kick myself for giving it up in favor of abject laziness) and when I glanced surreptitiously at the book, I recognized the language. She was older, maybe mid to late sixties, and, like me, traveling alone.
We both seemed content in our silence, but at one point she spoke. "You are American?" she asked me in Swedish. I'm always inclined to answer that I'm Canadian, but I am also always inclined to honesty. I answered affirmatively in English. Then I simply stated, "And you are Swedish." How did I know? I told her I'd spied her book. She asked if I'd heard of the author, Linda Olsson. When I said that I had not, she insisted that I needed to read her. She was reading A Sister in My House, but told me I should read Astrid and Veronika. She looked me directly in the eye (eye contact: something I'm not great with) and said, "I know you will enjoy it." As I looked away nervously, she added, "You can find it in English, I'm sure."
Less than five minutes later, I'd ordered a paperback copy from Amazon. A few days after I returned from Europe, it was in my mailbox. I started it immediately. Then ordered a copy in Swedish. I can promise you, I'd never done that before - ordered a book a random woman on a train recommended. Granted I got it used for like $4.99 and free shipping, but still. And all this was before she warned me about the seven mountains that surround Bergen.
Woman: What are you doing in Bergen?
Me: Running.
Woman: You do know that Bergen is surrounded by seven mountains?
Me [in my head]: She has to be wrong.
She wasn't. About anything. Not the mountains (Hilliest place I have ever run, not to mention the only place I've ever feared sliding down an icy hillside to my death while hiking). And she certainly wasn't wrong about the book. I can't say it was an enjoyable read - for a skinny little book, it was pretty heavy - but it was necessary. And it's why I decided to make some changes in my life.
I won't bore you by recounting the entire plot here. Suffice it to say that the book is about a reclusive older woman (Astrid) living in a little house in the Swedish countryside. She's hateful and irascible until a young woman (Veronika), with a few demons of her own, moves in next door and slowly draws her out. An unlikely friendship develops and both women find themselves changed.
Before reading the book, I was well on my way to being Astrid. I was happier by myself (Truth be told, I probably still am) and had been pushing most of the important people in my life away for some time. I was ok with superficial friends and acquaintances, but that was it. I wanted, and I vehemently pursued, a completely solitary life. Then I realized......... The more I pulled away from the world, the more it pulled away from me. If I wasn't careful I was going to end up like Astrid - not just old and alone, but also fearful of the outside world.
So, I made a conscious change. I decided to cultivate closer friendships with select people. Yes, I did this absolutely 100% consciously. Look, being social - for as social as I may seem - isn't in my wheelhouse, so to speak. I prefer to wrap myself in a warm cloak of introversion and hide from the world. In order to step out into said world, I have to push myself out of my comfort zone. Be social or pet a snake? Seriously, these were about even in my mind for a long time. And still are on many occasions.
Ten months later, I can say that I have friends again. I've reconnected with old friends and I've made a couple new ones. I meet people for lunch and dinner, coffee most often. Even though I seldom do the dialing, I pick up the phone when people call. Not too long ago, I ran with a group of people I'd never met before (I know, right?!?) I can't say I have a herd of friends (the mere idea of that makes me nauseous), but I do have a good, solid two I would call my go-tos and a good, solid three maybe four others that I truly enjoy spending time with.
To the Swedish woman on the train from Oslo to Bergen who recognized something in me - or maybe just recommended a book she liked - thank you. Astrid and Veronika was just what I needed. And to all of you, if you are ever in Norway, take the train from Oslo to Bergen. Spend the time. Enjoy the scenery. You won't regret it. And you just might meet someone who changes your life.
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