So, I’ve really been missing Copenhagen lately.
This time last year, I was packing up a backpack full of trail mix and chomp sticks to embark on my northern European journey to a new place – and when I think about that now, my chest sinks in a little deeper than usual as I exhale. There’s a sadness and a yearning all mixed together.
It’s been an odd lingering feeling, really…
The funny part is, I was plagued with the flu upon my arrival last August, which I feel would make for a reasonable assumption that the trip was all downhill and dark from the start. And granted, staying in a hostel with 9 other strangers, with only a small curtain of privacy, and one bathroom to share while I couldn’t breath out of my nose and had a high fever wasn’t the most ideal situation to say the least… I still am finding myself missing it.
I think one of the most common questions I find myself asking in my life is, “why”?
Whether it’s out of curiosity or in search of a possible explanation for things, those three letters are forever tattooed on the inside of my head.
So, in these recent yearning feelings, I’ve been asking myself – Why? Why do I feel this way?
Sure, it’s a foreign place, it’s beautiful, and who wouldn’t love to spend some time in a European country…?
But, it’s been different. There’s this deep inner craving for it – so specifically.
When I visited last year, to be quite transparent, it was a little bit more than a vacation for me. For years, I’d heavily considered if I’d maybe want to move over there. Their fashion scene was booming and there was a spoken purity about their land and their way of life that called to me. Some well known fashion brands were headquartered there, and I figured, maybe that was where I was meant to be – at least for a little bit. In fact, prior to even booking my flight, I had submitted numerous intern and job applications over there – knowing it was a longshot, while simultaneously giving myself the opportunity if it so happened to be written in the stars. So, it was a research trip, really. It was my time to set foot and observe their world, culture, and how I fit into it – how it made me feel… if I belonged.
What’s interesting, is as much as I found it to be undeniably magnificent – I had kind of started to question if it was a place I saw myself living. It was much larger than I anticipated and quite spread out. Public transit made it easy to get around which was a perk, but admittedly, I felt a little isolated and lonely.
Solo travel is one of my greatest passions and joys, but in all of my solo trips, I’m not so sure I’ve ever really felt “lonely” before this. I always seem to be crossing paths with these guardian angels who I’m convinced have just been disguised as humans – kind of kidding… but kind of not.
It’s in these moments, venturing around the world by myself, where I actually seem to find myself feeling most whole– most authentic and at peace.
But Copenhagen was interesting. It was quiet. Locals seemed to keep to themselves and were fairly reserved in the settings I saw them in. But what’s also interesting is, I never felt they were unkind or uptight – instead just peacefully living their lives.
Taking all of this into consideration, perhaps you can see why my recent craving is a bit perplexing. In all of the places in the world I could dream to go, I am feeling called to go back to that city.
So, as I began to tackle the question of “why”, I’ve landed somewhere around here –
Although quite sick in the 7 days I spent over there, there was an intense sense of calm that overcame me – which, transparently, as someone who chases excitement, hyper-productivity, a little bit of chaos, and spontaneity in my everyday life, made this rare.
I spent every morning walking 45 minutes to the same gluten free bakery. No headphones, no music – nothing. The world was so quiet. My heart rate was slow along with my walking pace – which as a born and raised New Yorker, is again… rare.
I would sit outside with my cappuccino, daily pastry of choice, and my journal.
There is an authenticity to Copenhagen, and I don’t necessarily mean solely the culture. I actually felt it more in the land – in the outside world. The air.
There’s water and greenery everywhere that brought a certain familiarity.
I remember while on the train one day, I called my mom for a daily check in. As I listened to her voice, I stared out the train window as the outside world raced by. There were cows, extensive land, bike trails – hints of home in a place halfway across the world.
I told her that – that she and my dad would love it there. That there was a place just like Jordan, New York a few thousand miles away. There was something special about that.
The architecture remains old world, and there’s parks around every corner. People are active – running and biking all the time. But I also got to observe the social culture from afar, and it was in those moments it was made clear they know how to enjoy life in numerous ways.
I ventured to an Airbnb outside of the city for the last few days of my trip – to really observe and experience that “local” life, if you will. And as I would lay to rest each night, there was a noise… lots of them to be exact. I can still hear the music and cheers I heard outside my window of the locals coming together and making the most of the time we’re gifted here on this Earth – simply celebrating life – making the most of a night before the “responsible hours” started all again the next morning. Although I wasn’t a part of it, I could feel their sense of community – and it made me smile.
And that’s all really… This is a post with no conclusion – no big life lesson really.
But I’ve woken up for a good two weeks now, every morning having found myself wishing I could walk out my door and smell the pure air and listen to the, well – nothing. The sound of bike pedaling and subtle sea waves. And I needed to put it somewhere, to let it out.
I will admit, the burnout boogie man has been creeping his way in recently… and parts of me wonder if – or know that – my yearning, this intense inner craving for this peaceful place, is a little bit owed to this. To this strong need to quiet my world and just sit with myself for a bit.
I will be the first to admit, I’ve been a little lost the last few months – and in a way I’d never really experienced before. For someone who has always been so comfortable with just being on my own, I had started running away from myself. I couldn’t sit – just me. I spent the greater months of May and June entering my apartment only to immediately change my clothes and be on to the next thing – out the door. Time with myself meant thinking, and overthinking, and for once I simply couldn’t do it.
Healing is a funny thing – but then, not actually all that funny at all…
But a week or so ago, I stayed in my apartment for a whole day – just me. Blinds were closed, no music played, no show playing in the background – it was really just me. I cleaned, decorated walls that were still blank, and started to slowly commit to putting my life back together – to putting me back together.
Parts of me wonder if this Copenhagen craving was my inner most self finally calling me back…
As I detailed extensively above… in my entire week visiting that magnificent, calm city, I didn’t really speak to anyone. I read, I rested, and I reflected in a world away from my own. I spent time with me, and only me.
And so in a really long winded way… I think this Copenhagen craving is really a sign of healing – of coming back to myself and giving me a little hug.
I really enjoyed spending that week with myself last year… and although I unfortunately am not picking up and actually going back (at least for the time being), this yearning – although making me sad at times – is actually a good thing. A great challenge…
This surprisingly has been a fun “why” to consider. To ask myself what I was really missing…
And as much as I would do anything to snap my fingers to actually be back doing my daily morning stroll along the sea, it really turns out what I think I’ve been missing… was me.
