Tag: iceland

Why we all need beacons by which to steer our course …
```
"... 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.

all at sea Download
05/11/2025
How we carry traces of the people we’ve loved and lost …
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"... I think of the people 
who’ve gone before me
how I carry echoes of them 
like layers of ash 
debris I’ve collected 
and cannot discard... " 
```
This time of year is a particularly poignant one for me as two members of my immediate family died in this past week, a year apart from each other. I’ve touched on bereavement in an earlier blog, and I know that it’s a subject that will resonate with almost everyone.

Throughout my life, I’ve found different ways of relating to death. As a child and young adult, I fully embraced the Roman Catholic tradition in which I was brought up, but from which I later departed. These days, I don’t align myself to any religion or faith, and I find nature my best option when considering most things for which I need a reference point beyond myself. Does that make sense? I hope so, because I can’t think of a better way of explaining it.

Nature has a life cycle that, in many ways, matches our own, just on a different timescale. Trees are a great example, and I’ve found them such an inspiration for life in general and for my poetry in particular. Here in Iceland, I’ve encountered glaciers and the lakes that form due to melting ice, ultimately leading to the sea. It got me thinking about life and how we can’t always control how our journeys end, when we might die or how long it might take. Sitting by the lake at the tongue of the glacier, I felt I was watching the ice slowly die. Ice breaks off and floats in the lake until it finally melts. The icebergs are graceful, beautiful, and yet, at the same time, seemingly helpless. I couldn’t help but think that, after all those years of slowing moving down the mountain, splitting from an enormous glacier above, the ice will simply vanish without trace.

And yet, every iceberg tells a story. They display visible layers of ash, from volcanic eruptions, in much the same way as rock reveals layers of seismic activity in its structure. We too carry traces, some visible and others not. I’ve lost count of the physical scars present on my body, evidence of various accidents that involved broken bones and/or open wounds. Stitches leave scars that eventually fade but never totally disappear. Neither can I calculate the ways that my life has been enriched by others who I’ve loved and lost. It can be little things, like the way I polish my shoes or parallel park the car (just as my father taught me), to life changing decisions, due to the words or actions of a loved one. It was remembering the advice of a very dear friend, that led me to step down from a temporary promotion at work. It was one of the toughest but best decisions I ever made.

Truth is, we internalise the influence of others all the time, some of it conscious and some unconscious. You might not always welcome it: I hear both my parents in my head these days when I say something out loud and I recognise my mother’s mannerisms in my facial expressions. I purposefully make choices every day to live life to the full, to honour those who no longer have the luxury of doing so.

I don’t have any answers. I don’t know if there is any form of life after death but I have memories that still feel very much alive; I believe that means a part of that person lives on in me. At this time of year, when I’m remembering my loved ones, I miss them of course, but I also feel deep gratitude. I’m thankful that they were part of my life, and they left their mark on me, which means I continue to cherish them. I don’t think they would want me to feel sad but rather celebrate what they were and, in some way, still are. On a bright day at Svínafellsjökull, I felt sad yet glad at the same time.

svinafellsjokull Download
29/10/2025
Why a positive mindset makes all the difference …
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"... I used to think I must go 
to a bigger place
for life to expand 
so I moved to a city 
far from home 

only then did I realise
that horizons grow 
from within not without ..."
```
I’m holed up in my camper van in the Pingvellir National Park in Iceland as I write this. It’s been raining incessantly for what feels like days, and we’re waiting for it to pass. It reminds me of my childhood: stuck indoors due to rainy days, which happened a lot in Lancashire. There were board games of course, or drawing and colouring. But my favourite pastime was reading and I seriously devoured books. I recall reading the Heidi classics by Johanna Spyri, thinking to myself how amazing it must be to walk barefoot on meadows high up in the alps, rather than spend your childhood confined to wellies that always rubbed the backs of your legs! I had a vivid imagination as a child, which I must say, has served me well in life.

This week’s poem is another written during this trip. This tiny church was easy to miss, partly due to its size, but also its low profile, well camouflaged by the surrounding landscape. The church accommodated a congregation of just thirty; I expect that there wasn’t much privacy to be had in that community. It would most certainly be noted if you were absent for Sunday Service, and I expect everyone would know your business. I can’t think of anything worse.

It got me thinking about how much opportunities have increased, particularly for women, over the last few centuries. I could picture the likes of Jane Eyre, sat in Grafarkirkja on a Sunday morning, wondering about her fate as a woman with limited options. What would the likes of the English women’s rugby team make of it all, given the rich opportunities they’ve enjoyed in this modern age? I admit to filling up with emotion when I heard that they had won the World Cup. I’m always inspired when women achieve great things despite the obstacles they may have encountered. Hard to believe that, in my lifetime, women were still denied entry to some sports and sport institutions. We’ve come a long way.

And yet, in other parts of the world, women and girls are still denied the right to work or go to school. In some ways, I worry that the human race is going backwards. It isn’t lost on me that I’m extremely privileged to be taking this extended trip to a country and culture that has truly widened my horizons.

During my time in Iceland, I’ve been blown away by the sheer scale of the country, its landscape and its history. It’s tempting to think in a place of such enormity, that opportunities will abound for people here. But of course, it’s never that simple is it? There are so many variables at play in how each of us view the world, our own situation and the choices we make. People have often said to me that I’ve been lucky; whilst I accept that to some degree, I also think that you have to make your own luck. Hard work and resilience are both important factors in maximising any opportunities you may have; that’s certainly been my experience. I read a fascinating book a couple of years ago by Dr Carol Dweck, Changing the Way You Think To Fulfil Your Potential, which demonstrated brilliantly just how much impact a positive/growth mindset can have on people. To use an analogy, it’s a bit like switching a light on: you suddenly see the options that may have eluded you.

The biggest lesson for me has been realising that the key factor in how my life turns out is my attitude. It’s not about living in a beautiful place, going on amazing holidays, or having lots of money. It’s about being grateful for what I have: the people in my life, and the time I have to do the things that bring me joy. Even if that means writing whilst being holed up in a rather damp camper van, waiting for a break in the weather.

grafarkirkja Download
22/10/2025