I have loved you for a thousand years!

Sometimes I am completely overcome with emotions. It’s like a cloudburst, the skies opening to empty it’s reservoirs of droplets, soaking me unexpectedly, washing me in an array of feelings ranging from longing to gratitude, from grief to euphoria. And just like the weather, it cannot be stopped, and often not even predicted. Is a sailor a better navigator because she can read the skies or because she has the skills to respond to the ever changing weather conditions?

“Life is an experience, not a project” was the take-away from a conversation I had the other day with my boys who are natural born truth-seekers. Russell, one of the wisest young men I know, shared his life philosophy with Kenny and myself who are both rate high on the I-want-to-be-in-control-scale. If most of life’s pain comes from the lack of our acceptance of reality vs. our expectations it seems that approaching life like an adventurous journey, rather than a destination that one must navigate towards, makes perfect sense.

I’ve been home on leave for a few weeks, ever so more precious due to the travel restrictions that our new friend Mr. Corona imposes. The reality of working abroad is that I want to squeeze so much from my limited home visits; dealing with administration, medical appointments, catching up with friends, engaging with family, getting some rest and holiday experiences, consuming Swedish delights, and most importantly quality time with my boys. And since everything is so compact it can lead to intense feelings, especially when unsolicited demands and unwanted expectations lurk in the shadows seeking a pound of your flesh.

The highlights that make me ecstatic are without doubt connecting with my loved ones and the moments that engage all my senses in beauty (i.e. cycling through town, being on or in the water, a meal with flavours I’ve craved, skies decorated with sunsets or shooting stars, observing an Iranian wedding unfold, etc). The lows that stir up strong emotions are being reminded of the unresolved drama, nostalgic disappointments and separation from belonging. And then we have unexpected glorious experiences, like ending up in a bicycle workshop with a flat tire resulting in interesting conversations with a 93-old hobby-inventor and an inquisitive mechanic.

But the strongest emotion I’ve felt during my home-visit comes from a place of love! Love for my boys. Love for my home. Love for my family. Love for my future. Love for my friends. Love for my city. Love for myself. It’s as if the love from many thousands of years is accumulating, creating a reservoir that will sustain myself and those I grant access. Making the experience of life lush and green, able to withstand the dry desert periods that can’t be avoided.