The Wandering Foodie

3:04am. The orange and pink hues of the sunrise were just beginning to peek up over the mountains, the first droplets of a glorious sky being painted over Reykjavik’s Old Harbor. I couldn’t ever recall witnessing a sunrise this early in the morning. But, Iceland is an uncommon place. The light was different. The land itself here was different. Formed over millions of years of volcanic activity and tectonic plate movement, the country was literally born in violence. The landscape is rough, rocky, filled with long furloughs of dried lava flows, expansive glaciers and sheer mountains. It forces you to be present with it, and with your thoughts, your doubts, self-talk, fears and failures.

The land is constantly moving, shifting, changing, growing. Take Thingvellir National Park, the site of the ancient Icelandic parliament meetings. It’s situated right on the Eurasian and North American tectonic plates. Deep in the fissures between the plates, one can dive down in the clear glacial waters and swim between the plates, straddling two worlds, shifting against each other. Or the rugged Sólheimajökull Glacier, the fourth largest in Iceland, which has grown, retreated and then grown again over the centuries.

It was a timely adventure and a reflective journey as I took in these natural wonders. Much like the land, I’ve been confronting change, evolution and the challenges that come with continued growth. I used to measure it in linear terms, thinking that forward progress is, indeed, progress. The truth is that growth is rarely linear. There are setbacks. We fall off the wagon. Like the glacier, we retreat and then rebound. It has been very difficult to accept this of late. I feel the weight of failures, both personal and professional, as an ever-present state of mind. But, perhaps that isn’t such a bad thing. The first step to confronting failures, self-doubts, challenges and fears is to acknowledge them. To speak to them, hear them, and talk back to them. Avoidance or pretending that they do not exist is the worst thing you can do. Like the struggles and constant evolution of Iceland, you must constantly monitor, wrestle and, despite negative energy, PUSH BACK and take the next small step towards the successful future.

10:01pm. Across the land’s rugged terrains, the sweeping coasts, waterfalls and lagoons, it was the harbor that I returned to again and again. Standing there, looking out over the water as the sun sank and rose behind the mountains, I realized that I needed this reminder, this meditation on change, challenges and past and present senses of failure. The land had spoken to me, having fought its way forward for centuries upon millennia and continues expanding and growing even now. The only way forward was to fight for myself, my values, my future, my dreams, my hopes and my purpose. I watched the sun set once more over the remote northern island and then, I turned and walked back to the hotel, content to savor the moment, the lesson, and the acceptance that I didn’t have all the answers and wasn’t perfectly resolved of all the doubts, fears and challenges…and that was ok.

Onward.