Stockholm Symmetry
The first time I came to Stockholm, things weren’t going well. Back home I’d been following all the rules, but the expression “my life is passing me by” was talking about me. Pushed out from the complacency of obedience, I bought a one-way ticket to Europe. I started in Germany but didn’t know what to do and felt like I was messing everything up, so I took the overnight train to Copenhagen, where I didn’t know what to do and felt like I was messing everything up, so I took the overnight train to Stockholm, where I walked to a couple hostels and found them all full.
“Didn’t you know you need to book ahead during this season?” the man asked me.
“No,” I could have answered. “Because I don’t know what to do and am messing everything up.”

Embarrassed and overwhelmed, I walked on into the cold light of an October dawn and found a little park. An old lady was walking her shivering dog. Puppy and I looked at each other in mirrored misery. Giving up, giving in, I walked to the harbor and caught the overnight boat to Estonia.
The very next day an egg hatched and the travel bug that crawled out bit me so hard I must have bitten it back. From there my life took an unexpected path that felt better than anything before it, though it took some years to notice. Today that path has me back in Stockholm to lead another tour of the job I love. Every time I come back to this city (any city) I enjoy getting to know it better, but I never considered that park, held in my memory but lost to a long-ago lack of a map, much less a clue.
Until tonight, meandering home to the hotel, when I crossed a little park and felt the shock of recognition in the soft summer air. I sat on the bench where I rested my overloaded pack those many years ago, and marveled at all of it. An old lady was walking a dog. Puppy and I looked at each other with mirrored playful joy.

Travel has always taken me forward, in more ways than one, and I applaud the universe with great claps of gratitude. But travel is not an accomplishment. It’s just something you do if it’s right for you. I smile the insider smile with any of you who already know that.
Now, questions of privilege demand answers, the zeitgeist of our age. But I think a lot of people are too convinced by the burdensome “you can’t travel now, you have to work work work.” And it has to be said that human beings are good at staying within our comfort zones, to our own detriment.

Do you know anyone who needs a little push? Perhaps someone snug in the complacency of obedience, for whom the sound of that stamp landing in their passport will forever echo as the starting pistol to run into a fuller experience of life? Is it you?
That pistol sounded for me, and looking back at it from that park bench, 16 years into my marathon, I am so glad it did. Nice to see you again Stockholm.

Full circle moment! How it all began . . .
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We have a friend who won’t travel because on his only trip to Europe, someone scolded him in a market for using the wrong door. To us, making mistakes is part of the fun, although usually in retrospect. The time we drove down a pedestrian only street in Spain, getting lost in Normandy and passing a “Thank you to our Liberators!” sign, having an old Italian man help us back down from an Italian hill town where our car wouldn’t fit thru the entrance, all great memories! Your post made me remember my first trip traveling solo at 22. The TI in the train station in Munich recommended a hotel. There was quite noisy room next to me, with men coming and going all night. It took me a little too long to realize there was a prostitute next door! Alan says I am only happy when I am planning a trip and have one to look forward to. Hope all is well.
Karen Roseman
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Hello Karen! I’m only seeing this now but what a funny story & memory! And you’re entirely right that the accidents, even if embarrassing in the moment, are often the memories that make us laugh. Do you have a trip you’re already looking forward to?
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