Last night I dreamt someone stole my bicycle. A surreal setting which was supposed to be Copenhagen, but looked something more akin to a medieval town with endless dark and dirty cobbled streets, was strewn about with bicycles left higgledy-piggledy everywhere. I’d left my bike unlocked for a minute and then suddenly, in a whoosh, a dark figure whisked past me, riding off with my bike at super speed. Hey! The rest of the dream involved a panicked (and absolutely futile) search for the bike with a skull-and-cross bones bell. I didn’t wake up in a sweat but I woke up heart-broken!
Such is the attachment I’ve formed with this inanimate object. As nightmares go, this pales in comparison to the pumpkin-head serial killer dream I had last week (I have no idea where that came from) Thinking it over at breakfast this morning, it occurred to me that though I might not feel the intense panic my dream suggested, such a loss would certainly have an adverse affect on my life here, as I could attest to following my first two bike-less weeks in. For me, my bike has come to represent my freedom and I care for that a lot. Beyond the obvious, I contemplated what this vivid depiction of ‘loss’ represented in my subconscious.
Jump back to last Saturday when Copenhagen was flooded by a relentless thunderstorm (NOT a dream, this was real!). Rain on a biblical scale continued to pour down for hours while rolling thunder was set on long play. After a few hours, I became trapped like a castaway as a veritable lake encircled the building. I felt safe, though worried about the collateral damage the water would cause. I admit, I was relieved to be up on the first floor and in the company of Konrad, who seemed indifferent to the increment weather and slept the time away.
When the rain finally stopped, the water level was about knee high. Behold this dreamlike, armageddon-ish set piece just outside my window. Maybe it was the sense of calm that went with the crisis before us that made it feel so surreal. Many people in my street waded out between the cars abandoned in the road and shared a laugh or took photos. I’ve learned that this occurrence really was a one off and so I feel lucky in a strange way that I had a front row seat for this grand (though ultimately, destructive) show of nature.
I cannot understate what a nightmare this episode proved to be for some. This force majeure saw cars written off, homes ruined and possessions destroyed. The owners of the flat below were already refurbishing their ground-level flat following a bad case of damp rot(!), and though they have been living elsewhere for the time being, they will now be displaced for an considerably extended period of time to begin the refurbishment all over again as a result of this new 'damp-age'.
Throughout the week, many people have been working to recover from the water damage, sifting through their soggy belongings to determine what could be salvaged and what could not. I share a certain affinity with these people as I try to refurbish my own life and determine what is of most value during my time here. While I was under no illusion that this journey would be easy, I have found it hard at times, rebuilding things on my own and making decisions based on budget, knowing it will be a while yet before my life here fills out. There has been plenty of time to reflect but I’ve not necessarily come to any clear conclusions about things either.
After my first month, I have found I have already gained a lot. Life has included laughter, tears, firsts, lasts, sunburn, floods, music, love, cats and fish ☺, noise, silence, freedom, peace, boredom, sadness, beauty and joy. I’ve gathered a good collection of memories, new faces and places, sunrises, cigarette butts and words on paper. Yet, much like those who have had to reluctantly dispose of things they could not salvage from the storm, I have also had to let go of things that I’ve cared for, as nature has dictated. In my case in particular, this process has seen me ‘discard’ much of what represents ‘security’, in exchange for that which represents my liberty. It can be in incredibly sad and trying process sometimes, but then that which does not kill us…yadda yadda ;)
I suppose it must be true that my independence and limited time frame makes me more inclined to regroup and take stock of what I will be able to hold onto from this experience. Not least of all because it’s anyone’s guess what will prove the most resilient in stormy times and over the long term. If this week has proven anything, it is important to just expect the unexpected and ensure the things I care for most are fortified, as much as possible anyway. Sussing out what those things are is the hard part. My ‘big picture’ brain leaves me thinking that if anything, it’s important to preserve the ability to live, learn, share and express as freely and fearlessly as I can, and in the face of any kind of storm. I’m protective of that both for me and the people around me.
We all have our own priorities and one person’s damage is another person’s opportunity to have a good clear out. The challenges that come with being a newbie, while frustrating at times, have of course also been fulfilling and, without question, educational. Life is fleeting and I'm still determined to pay attention to what I have. After an overwhelming first month, at very least I know two things: a) I still have my beautiful bike(!) and b), I am still here pursuing my dreams, instead of chasing a nightmare. Phew!
Random Girl
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