I've spent a great deal of my 75 years of life feeling inadequate. Oh, I celebrate my accomplishments; I know my skill set; I have OK self esteem most of the time; people (some) seem to (sorta) like me (sometimes). Still, I have often thought I'd be a better all around person if I was more gregarious, definitely more adventuresome, much more accomplished, certainly more ambitious, always more social and ready to party, more talkative -- basically more of a peacock strutting in full feather, capturing oohs and ahhs, than the nondescript sparrow alone in the birdbath splashing for a few minutes in solitary pleasure.
Our extroverted, rugged individualism, self-reliant, self-aggrandizing, striving, ambitious, success-seeking, attention-hogging culture tells some of us that a quiet, contented, family/friend focused life of home, hearth, health, and community is just boring and dull and not very important. We more introverted people can end up being invisible in a loud and pushy world. And that can feel scary and lonely, sort of like my whole childhood of invisibility.
Then I visited Scandinavia. I can stop beating myself up: It's not me. It's just me in the wrong place. I've never felt so comfortable as I did there. So OK. So me, without apology or embarrassment. It's OK to respect others' personal space and for them to respect mine. It's OK to be quiet and self-effacing. It's OK to want to live in a culture of trust, not suspicion; consensus, not discord. It's OK to want to be in surroundings that are clean and well-maintained, not overgrown and overblown and covered in discarded trash and spray-painted gang tags. It's OK to enjoy riding public transportation that is clean and efficient and safe, not riding while constantly assessing the environment for dirt and danger. Same with walking down the street. It's OK to slow down, sit in a park, watch children playing -- and even join in -- instead of being distracted by the FOMO of what what my phone tempts me to keep up with every minute of every day. It's OK to delight in finding clean, safe, natural green spaces everywhere in big cities instead of miles of concrete and chainlink fences.
I used to think my Norwegian great aunts and uncles were boring. We'd visit them on their farms or tiny towns in the northern Illinois cornfields on Sunday afternoons and while they were friendly, welcoming, always had yummy snacks and sweet cakes to serve, they were not gregarious, or outgoing, or even very interesting to me. They all looked ancient old. They didn't play rock'n'roll on the radio, or drink any alcohol at all, or get out the yard games, and a swear word never crossed their lips. They sat in vinyl slatted lawn chairs, talked about family near and far, reminisced about the 'old country', talked about feed corn, and let me sit on the tractor -- the highlight of the afternoon. They were a kind, quiet, teetotalling bunch who valued family and the homes and land they lived upon. They seemed content and grateful, in spite of life's hardships. I can finally relate and appreciate them. I am them. (With maybe more rock'n'roll and the occasional F-bomb.)
So, what to do? I've actually never wanted to live anywhere but in the United States. I have been mostly proud to be an American and I've done my best to fit in, to try harder, to be bold and brash and the best, just like America likes to think of herself. But I can say now, with regret, that I feel I'd rather to have lived in Scandinavia. It is not perfect. There are world class problems and challenges everywhere. But it is a culture in tune to my own being. I might have been happier, more content, more self-accepting had I not been fighting against expectations that were impossible for me to live up to given my inner landscape.
I hear you saying it: You be you! You could be that person HERE! Yep. But it's harder when all around you, from childhood on, there is a different cultural norm, different goals, different messages. Maybe some are able to buck that cultural messaging and maybe some just feel like a fish out of water, never quite finding our land-legs.
But now I am in the twilight of my life. I can make a different place for me. I can live like a Scandinavian, with more trust and less suspicion; embrace my tendency to work for the common good rather than listening when I'm told to consider how that might effect me and mine; become comfortable with my introversion, my need for quiet space, my hesitancy about barging into people's lives uninvited. I can accept that I am not a risk-taker or traditional adventurer, but that my adventures are internal dives into introspection and learning about myself and others and how we can be together in a meaningful way. I can learn to make lefse and stop swearing. (OK, those might be going too far.)
The point is, the inner landscape and outer culture of my own life is mine to mold. I do still live in this big, brassy, diverse country that is unwieldy and maddening and where consensus is very, very difficult to find, but in my own little world, I can be Scandinavian. Where Universal Welfare is the norm, the goal, the answer.
They say you should be changed by travel. I've never really felt that until now. Now I am changed by the relief that there exists a place where I could fit in. It's up to me to bring that place home, like a Viking Queen steering her own ship.
At least, that's the view from here...©
