My Nordic Nature won’t leave me. I know, I know. I trust you. I believe you want to do good. Let’s do this together. Our goal is for the common good. Mantras I grew up with. They stuck. Being sincere. Being respectful. Without greed. Without power.
I’m still here. In that frame of mind. Been hurt. Been pushed aside. Been misunderstood. But still, my nature won’t change. I call it Nordic. It’s a word. A trendy word. It covers the Northern countries of Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Norway and Sweden. I grew up in Denmark, the Southern part of the North.
Spent vacations further south, in Germany, in Switzerland, in France, in Spain. Went to Norway once, Stockholm, once, but never been in Finland or Iceland. Still, I’m Nordic? During my formative years, 8 through 12 (before puberty), I lived in the countryside, among farmers, animals, woods and rolling hills. My sense of freedom was strong. I biked from school through the woods and along fields, a 5 mile trek. First, with friends, then by myself.
My respect for nature is strong. I do not want to possess it or abuse it. I know I’m a minuscule part of it. I let it flow through me. Not so easy with human nature. Manipulation. Complications. Misunderstandings. Miscommunication. I find my tribe. I feel comfortable. I feel supported. I feel passion.
Do I get together with other Nordic Natures? Not necessarily. The Nordic Nature crosses borders. I find it here. I find it there. Shared by many. Claimed by some. Owned by a few.