The year we all turned to heroes

We are entering a new year.


My thirtyfirst year of living.

This year is going to be very different from 2010. In all ways imaginable. But there is also something I want to bring with me into this new year, something I want to stay the same.

Once upon in a time I lived a stable and perfect life. Never afraid of anything.
This year I have done things I have never done before, my emotional life has been on a rollercoaster, up and down, up and down. I have been bored and exhilirated. I have been happy and scared to death. In love and completely desperate. Sometimes all at the same time.
Looking back at all this, nothing has really been too bad, nothing to be afraid of. But I didn’t know that then.

The real heroes in our world are the ones who despite their fear goes ahead and do it anyway.

It might look like people like Gandhi or Nelson Mandela were never afraid, that they had some inner strength that we lack.

I don’t believe that.

I believe they are just as afraid as we are. They were only better at ignoring that feeling, moving forward anyway.
They are no different from us. What they have done, we can do.

We must face our fears, stand up and tell it to it’s face that no matter how loud it screams, we are not going to listen.

We must go the whole way, live life fully, no matter what it means. We cannot all fight for independence or abolish apartheid, but we can give all we have right now, right here.
We can dare ourselves to fall in love even when it looks stupid, dare to be honest with the ones we meet, trust people we have never met. Dare to risk it all, dare to fail. Dare to stand there looking like fools when we do something weird. Sing when we bike down the street and see astonishment and smiles on peoples faces.

We must stand up against the impossible without closing our hearts and turn around.

Dare to be human

Maybe that means having more bad days than before, but maybe we will also have more great days. It is a risk. It is dangerous. It might be crazy, immature and stupid.
But to survive in a crazy world, we must be a little bit more crazy.
Stop waiting for some hero to come and save us. It will never happen, no one will do it for you.

2011 is the year when we have the chance to be the heroes in our own lives.

Take that chance.


Two weeks


I have been home for two weeks now. Two weeks of winter, extreme cold and tons of snow. A grey sky and the silence that comes when sound is not so easily reflected.

I can sense how I am approaching a kind of balance.
When we are on the move, from experience to experience, from activity to activity we loose our natural stability. How much we are affected by it is individual, but everything moves between the opposites movement and stability and especially in the latter part of my trip, I was almost constantly on the move.
Short stops, many activities, meeting new people. Forced to find routine in an impermanent reality.

Now I’m home, in my apartment, in a monday to friday routine, regular exercise and despite a lot of activities I feel that I’m getting back to this balance between this movement and stability that I have had the last few years.

So despite confusion and stress at work I feel a harmony inside that I haven’t felt for months. Tired and content. Active stillness. Things happening in it’s own pace and so far, it is perfect.

A letter from Pai


The creative flow is our natural birthright.

It is the energy that goes from the source within, being expressed through our bodies, taking form in the world we live in.
It is always new, fresh. Because we are constantly changing.
It can never be the same.

Let go of the comfortable, the memory and the image of what you know.
Push your limits.

Do not listen to that censor in your head that always resist change, resist the unknown and fear the uncomfortable.

Just say: Fuck it!

Back in everyday life


Ten months has passed since I was last here in my apartment. Ten months of adventures, insights and experiences. Every week has been like a year in itself and sometimes I wondered if I would ever get back home again.
When you do nothing, time moves very slowly.

A part of me never wanted to return. A part of me was content to go back.

I am here now.

It might look like I return to the same place I left. The same job, the same friends, my family. Same apartment, the same country.

But I am not here “again”.

I am here now. In a new country, a new job. New friends and a completely new family. A whole new me.

Everything has changed since I was here the last time, yet everything is still the same.

In the end of June, me and Paula from Buenos Aires, was cramped into a bus, heading from Luang Prabang to Vientiane in Laos. A bus filled with people, a few chickens, sacks filled with stuff and even a two meter saw.
The driver was staying on the road with one hand, holding his cigarette with the other and all around me there was a constant chatter in a language I didn’t understand. Neither the people or the chicken

We sat in that bus for three hours. It was our reality right then. And right then I didn’t think at all about sitting in front of a computer, clicking away on things, solving problems or even putting in an effort at all.

After two days at the office, it is like I never left. Like I have always been here. It feels absurd. But in what other way could it be?

We are never anywhere else but here. Every moment is new.

Despite our tendency to forget just that.