Get a life! – Last chapter of the Lofoten Story
(This time you’ll find the music at the end of the post. This is a Hungarian song, sorry guys, no translation. It’s about the importance of the moment and encourages us to start living before it’s too late.)
Morning message for my friend after sleeping in a tent for four weeks: ‘Hey Beus, I’m still in bed… oh wait… bed?! Haha, what the hell is that??’
There is too much to tell. I could continue telling fairy tales for ages. But the blog has its limitations and memories are tend to fade too.
A new journey is bound to come. A bit different, as usual. Who knows what it will bring. Now I only have a one-way ticket. Big jump to the unknown. Again.
So I close Lofoten Story with a couple of thoughts that I wrap for you as a gift. Don’t worry, it doesn’t need much space, you can easily take them as hand luggage when next time you start a journey.
Thoughts after a five-week long nomadic camping and trekking in Northern Norway
- Everybody who you smile with on a trek feels the same, understands the same as you do. Our muscles are burning the very same way, our lungs are equally out of breathe. We share the same feelings, we see the same eternal beauty. We have a secret common language to communicate without words. Smiles are more than enough.
- When you are up on the top of a mountain, you are completely empty and full at the same time. All the negative thoughts are vanished from your head and you only concentrate on the given moment: it’s only you and the infinity. There is something majestic and divine in this, some feeling of getting home, a marriage with the universe. You make peace with anything, let alone yourself.
- When there is a scarce, you learn to appreciate banal things like warm shower, a simple tomato spaghetti, electricity, water, sunshine, coffee, clean clothes and company.
- You don’t need to plan much, exploring is the best part of your travel.
- Sometimes you have to get lost to find yourself.
- To truly understand others you first must feel them. Only those people take hitchhikers who had hitchhiked before.
- To kill your boggarts you’d better face them. You shit into your pants when you only think about it, but this is the very sign that you should continue.
- You bet somebody is coming up the hill when you sit there singing out loud believing you’re alone. You’re never alone.
- To be happy you don’t need much. On the contrary, in fact. You sleep, you eat, you hike, you swim in lakes, you get tired, you get hungry. You repeat. You smile. I don’t say every moment should be like this, but eventually every one of us would need this kind of treatment.
- If something’s good, time flies. You need to stop from time to time and be happy about nothing.
- Everything is fine when you let life happen. Worrying makes no good.
During these five weeks I’ve learnt
- to see and feel the beauty in every little thing
- to solve every issue alone without safety net (without the help of a strong man)
- that less is more and stuff in a small backpack and a tent should be enough for five weeks, no need to possess more
- that everything happens at the right time
- I’ve learnt to understand that everything happens for a reason and to trust my guts
- to let everyday life go
- to enjoy what life gives without particular plans
- to appreciate meeting with others and to learn from every conversation
- to wait patiently for better times in a bad situation
- to understand that sunshine after rain is much better than sunshine all the time
- I’ve learnt to be present
- to clean myself in rivers, lakes and springs
- to have more faith in myself and in my decisions.
My legs, my belly and my back became more muscular, my stamina increased.
The distance showed me things clearly that had been very obscure before, it crashed former dreams cruelly and gave birth to others.
Although I have a really miraculous life I enjoyed miracles so intensely like never before.
And most importantly, I think I’ve learnt to live a bit more.