Relocating, and Other Stories from Public Transportation

Many of my most memorable experiences did not take place at a destination.  It's always the getting there, the journey, that incurs the most fun.  Well, at least what I call fun.  You might call it hell.  It's all a matter of perspective.

The first time I visited Finland, I traveled by ferry boat from St. Petersburg, Russia to Helsinki.  Having hopped off at the ferry terminal and walked just a few blocks to the Russian Embassy to renew my visa, I distinctly remember hauling my luggage back out of the consular office, down a tree-lined street, sitting down in the sun on some giant moss-covered rocks, looking out over the Baltic sea on the horizon and the Helsinki city skyline, and deciding right then and there:  I'm going to live here someday.  I had been there only four hours when my heart - not my rational brain - seemed to commit itself to a pursuit of residence in Finland.  

That was in April 2010.  I wouldn't actually move to Helsinki to start my master degree until September 2012, but when I finally arrived I wasn't all that surprised to be back.  It just seemed right.  I struggled financially as a student there, working and studying 16-18 hours a day for the first year and still barely making ends meet.  But nevertheless I was genuinely happy.  I was exactly where I dreamed of being, in an incredibly beautiful city built around forest and sea and archipelago.  My school offered amazing facilities and opportunities at the low cost of free tuition, and my classmates were creative and inspiring.  And during that first year and a half I grew more in my personal life than I had since my first international move to Belgium six years prior: amid my intense lack of resources, I learned to rely on God completely for provision and in the process grew more spiritually than I ever had before.  It was in Helsinki, walking each evening along the seashore or riding a city bus across bridges connecting islands, that I found a quiet place -- not only externally but somewhere inside my own heart and mind. As I began to avail myself of those moments in solitude, I developed a habit of praying through everything that was going on in my life, laying it all out there in conversation with God.  And for the first time in my life, in that quiet place my ears became attuned to God's voice, to what he was saying, doing, and teaching.  I began to see my prayers answered in incredible ways, far beyond what I had requested.  I thought to myself, God will never take me away from Finland; this is my sanctuary. 

Tacos, and the True Meaning of Leadership

On the way home today, I passed a digital sign in front of the Del Taco fast food joint down the street that read: "Are you a leader?"   I immediately thought to myself,  Everyone's always talking about leadership, about being a leader, but what about the content behind leadership?  Who do they think we should be leading, and what exactly does Del Taco want people to lead others in?  Besides, if everyone is leading and there's no one around to follow, "leadership" would lose its meaning, right?

For some reason the question stuck with me throughout the day.  Am I a leader?  
When we think of "leaders", often the first people who come to mind are global changemakers, leaders of huge movements, and we think of them as having a lot of power and perhaps controlling a lot of assets such as money, things, events, people's mindsets, etc.

I can recall this view of mega-scale leadership being reinforced during college. There were nationally renowned speakers, authors, and leaders constantly coming in to speak on our campus.  A lot of them were musicians-turned-philanthropists or turned-activists who decided they were going to change the world.   Don't get me wrong, they're fabulous people doing great things and are all very inspiring in their own right, but the flood of huge names and huge campaigns seemed to have a narrowing effect on my perception of leadership.

It wasn't until today, thanks to this Del Taco sign, that I straightened out my thinking about leadership. I'm going to share my not-very-official definition of leadership, the way I think of it in my head:   To me, leadership is saying "Hey guys, here's what I'm doing, here's where I'm going;  I think it's a worthy pursuit, wanna join?"

To Each Her Own Sanctuary

The landscapes are intriguing, beautiful, even breathtaking, but what really keeps me traveling is the people.  Like snowflakes covering northern lands, no two people are exactly the same; each twirls and soars and falls and lands differently.  Each has a different journey.  Through conversations and shared experiences, I love to discover all sorts of people.  But there is one kind of person that particularly inspires me.

This kind of person is found among both young and old, educated and uneducated, travelers and homebodies.  I've found them in every country I've ever been to.  It's the person who finds a passion, a purpose, and joyfully throws him- or herself into it wholeheartedly.  It's the person who finds what that special thing is that gives back even more in personal satisfaction than the work and time and money and energy they may have put into it.  As the author of this next excerpt so elegantly puts it, it's one's own "sanctuary".

Marking One Quarter of a Century

My 25th birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks.  I never wrote down specific goals or even thought about what I would have hoped to do or experience or accomplish during my first 25 years on planet Earth, but looking back, I can say that I'm quite content with the journey thus far.

Many people, in their mind's eye, stop growing older after a certain age.  The years pass by, but their identity is frozen in time; they continue to perceive themselves as that one ultimate age.  My mom always thinks of herself as a 24-year-old.  It seems to have worked well for her because now, at almost double that, she can still pass for 30.   As a kid, I always wanted to be 17.   It seemed magical in my imagination, and I truly felt invincible as I lived that year out in Belgium, Bosnia, the US, Australia, and China.  In fact, that year went so well, I didn't easily move on.  I've continued to think of myself as a 17-year-old out exploring the big, wide world.  Until now.

Twenty-five is a big marker in my mind.  One quarter century.  I want to do something extraordinary to kick off this year, so I begin to scheme, with 12 days left to come up with a proper celebratory plan.


Meanwhile, my past few weeks haven't been the easiest: Full of philosophical brooding, a lot of questions for myself, a bit of self-doubt at times.  I've been waking up wondering: Is anything I do today really going to make a difference in the world?  It's a daily cycle:  Questions, Temporary Depression, Long Walk, Prayer, Praise, Encouragement, Meaningfulness, Enthusiasm for the day ahead, Excitement for my present work.   At first it took a full day to come around to a place of peace, but has become progressively shorter.  As I found the rhythm, wrote out the script that I need to read every morning, the process has been reduced to something I think about over my morning tea.  I've found solace in the small opportunities to make a difference, like listening to friends and encouraging them as they go through their own transitions; helping my brother and new sister-in-law organize their new home.

I know many, many of you, my dear readers, are much more mature in years, wisdom, and experience than I, and I'd love to learn from all the skills and perspective you've honed over the years.  It would be an honor to receive some words of advice, encouragement, warning, counsel, or anything else you would like to suggest as I move into this next season.
Your messages will reach me at shiraheden@gmail.com.  I look forward to hearing from you!

Season of Rest

I've had an increasing sense during this year that now is a season of rest for me:  mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually.  After years -- a full decade, actually -- of super-human self-expectations and unsustainable activity levels, I'm coming to a better understanding of what rest really means.  In order to get to this point, I had to rewrite the internal script that told me I'm only worth as much as I can accomplish.  I still haven't figured out how I developed that philosophy, but it doesn't really matter; what matters is that it's been replaced with a healthier script, one fueled by a sense of identity rooted in the truth that I am valuable because of who I am, not because of what I've done. As are you.

With that re-scripting has come a wonderful release, a longed-for freedom to just enjoy and not produce.  Of course I still work.  But with limits.  Healthy limits that allow for ensure renewal and rejuvenation at the end of each day.  Everywhere I turn, people and events keep reminding me that this is the time to reap the rewards of my hard work and truly enjoy them.  For once, I have not argued.  The results are worth sharing.

Stockholm: The Door Collection

My 'adopted' Finnish parents took me along on a family vacation to Sweden this weekend, a Helsinki - Stockholm - Helsinki cruise.  We had about seven hours in Stockholm to explore the city:  Just enough time to visit a very old church, watch a parade, walk through the old town, and have a nice lunch out on the terrace of one of the many cafes.

Stockholm has some magnificent doorways!  I snapped these quick shots along the way...

Antigua: The Door Collection

Antigua is a beautiful, colonial city nestled in the central highlands of Guatemala, in the shadow of the beautiful Volcán de Agua.  The city was founded in 1543 by the Spanish, who came to colonize most of Central America until 1773.  That means the Spanish were ruling Central America from the time Michelangelo was painting the Sistine Chapel and Copernicus was suggesting that the Sun is really the center of the universe ... until the time the United States of America was founded.