"... there’s comfort to be found
in familiarity
tempting to stay
closer than you should
to what you’ve always known
rather than venture
beyond ..."
At the beginning of our long trip to the Faroe Islands and Iceland, I mentioned to a fellow camper from the UK, that we would be away for 3 months. Her immediate reaction was, “Oh, you’re brave!”. I brushed off her comment as somewhat risk adverse, standing a little taller as I replied that it would be an “adventure”.
My husband and I had discussed the duration of the trip in some detail, opting to go for the maximum period allowed (3 months). This was, in part, to give us time to truly explore without rushing. But, I’ll be honest, it was also to justify to expense of the ferry fare. May as well make the most of it, we thought, as we are highly unlikely to do it again.
I’ve thought often about that fellow camper during our trip: she was onto something! I underestimated just how challenging the trip would be in countless ways. I’ve never travelled for such an extended period before, in a country that feels very different to my own. I’ve found it harder than expected but, equally, the challenges I’ve faced have made me stronger.
In my head I can still see a poster on a wall in my classroom at school, showing a picture of a ship in harbour. The words read, “A ship in harbour is safe, but that’s not what ships were built for”. It inspired me then and still does. If you think about all the things that might go wrong in life, you’d never do anything would you? It’s important to have dreams and to be brave enough to take the first step into the unknown. It can be scary but also exciting. You need to plan to some degree, but be prepared for the unexpected, because things won’t always go your way.
It helps, I think, to have tools at your disposal when things don’t work out as you’d hoped. I’m a big believer in gut instinct. I can’t explain it, but I just know that whenever I’ve failed to listen to my instinct, that’s when things have gone horribly wrong. Instinct, however, can also let you down. I love the lighthouse analogy; we’ve seen a lot of lighthouses in Iceland, enough to stretch my imagination still further. Your instinct might be telling you, this is the way, but then there’s a warning light foretelling danger. What would you do? I’d be risk adverse and navigate away from danger, of course I would.
It’s all about balance at the end of the day. The irony of a lighthouse, is that the beam of light may bring comfort when you feel anxious, but it’s main job is to warn of danger. It’s not always easy to distinguish between the two is it? There’ve been times in my life when I’ve struggled to differentiate between what’s right for me and what isn’t. I’ve felt all at sea, which is the title of this week’s poem.
Some of the challenges we’ve faced in Iceland led us to seriously consider cutting the trip short, but we didn’t. True, I would most likely have felt more secure on familiar ground, but I’m certain I would’ve regretted any decision to give up. This blog will go out on our last full day in Iceland. We’ll be catching the ferry heading back to Denmark, as originally planned, the next day. We stayed the course!
Going back to that schoolroom poster, I wasn’t made to play it safe but to live my life to the full, and that’s what I’m going to do. I want to live brave.
fi wynne writes 