A week before my last day at my job, I came back from lunch to find a package on my desk. No return address. Intrigued, I picked it up, flipped it over, then ripped it open.
Inside was a grey canvas patch with black signals and symbols painted all over it. A bit perplexed, I googled the Etsy shop on the enclosed business card.
According to the store, the patch was an Icelandic symbol, called a vegvísir. I looked on Wikipedia and found that “if this sign is carried, one will never lose one’s way in storms or bad weather, even when the way is not known.”
Still, had no clue where it came from.
I made eye contact with Jordan, who I accused of eavesdropping on the conversation I was having with myself.
“Well, you keep repeating the same thing over and over,” he said. “So who’s it from?”
“No idea,” I said. “There’s no return address.”
“Maybe it’s from a suitor,” he said, half-teasing.
My eyes lit up.
“Shami.”
Shami was a friend I made during my New Years trip to Reykjavik with Erica. I wrote about him previously – remember the guy spinning me around in the snow, the British Aziz?
That was Shami.
But it’s not what you think. Shami and I have stayed in touch since Iceland, and we’re friends. Up until Jordan said “suitor”, I had completely forgotten that Shami has asked me for my mailing address a few weeks prior.
He had seen the article Annabel wrote for the agency blog, the piece about everything on my desk. He said he wanted to send me something to add to it. I gave him the company address, and it slipped my mind.
I messaged him and he confirmed it was from him. We chatted for a few minutes, and I realized I hadn’t told him I was leaving my job. He had no idea how much the gesture, as well as the timing of the gift, meant to me.
Going back to my remote, travely roots is thrilling. But when I was still deciding if that’s what I wanted to do, I was scared. Earlier that day, actually, just before I had left for lunch, my head was spinning.
The first time I decided to go remote, a lot of friends and family questioned me. Nearly everyone asked me what my plan was, what I intended to do when I got to Iceland, and how this whole “drop everything and go abroad” thing was going to work.
I didn’t have answers, and I was okay with that.
Over the next few years, I met a lot of people who had similar aspirations. Deadlocked in jobs they weren’t happy in, curious artists and wanderers that wanted to devote themselves to something different, but didn’t know how. I may have given more careful advice, but the heart of it was the same.
“Do it. Do it, do it,” I almost always said to the person.
I’ve always liked being the cheerleader (also, I used to be one. You can stop laughing now, Nout. I admitted it to everyone). I love encouraging people. I like being the person who thinks that anything is possible.
But over the past few months, before I decided to cut my hair off, to get tattoos, and basically turn myself into a sassy, no-nonsense Tinkerbelle, I wasn’t so sure that anything was. I kind of lost hope for awhile, and didn’t gain it back until I put myself back out in the world.
Since I’ve been back to my old roots, I’ve had an overwhelming amount of support from people. All the people that I told to go for it, they were there for me. They told me to go for it.
No one really asked what the plan was.
They just asked where I was going next.
I really do believe that you can do anything. That initial belief brought me to Iceland the first time, and back the second, where I met Shami. And when I needed encouragement, he was there, without even intending to.
I probably don’t give the people in my life enough credit for everything they’ve done for me. I often imagine myself as a lone wolf, but the truth is, I couldn’t have made it to Iceland (either time) without a tribe of likeminded, positive people in my life.
So Shams, although this post is overdue, thank you for reminding me of that. Thank you to each and every person who continues to read this blog, even when it’s superfluous or self-centered. I’m still working out the kinks.
As long as that’s carried, the magic of knowing that we’re capable of anything, we’ll be fine. But we also can’t forget that although people are similar, they’re not replaceable. We need to nourish the relationships we have with the special people and connections in our lives.
Together, none of us will lose our way.
Especially when the way is not known.