For the first time in my life, I feel Fernweh.
I've always been an explorer of worlds – of my inner worlds, that is. I've always wondered, reflected, been curious about my inner landscapes, and I would said that I've become a very self-aware person as a result of it. I know my inner motives, my weaknesses, my strengths. I know what I'm afraid of and I'm ruthlessly honest with myself about these things.
This inner exploration has helped me a lot. It's nothing I regret. But now the exploration needs to go outwards too. I feel the pull. I feel the need. I feel the desire. It's very new to me.
Growing up with a dad that hates traveling, I never went anywhere and wasn't raised to see much value in experiencing the world. I didn't mind traveling, but I also didn't need it. I was completely okay with Denmark being my world and with only traveling to see family.
But now I've spent 16 months in Vienna, I've traveled with friends, I've traveled on my own. And it's fun, it's fascinating, it's, like, fuck, if you know what I mean. So when I stood in an almost empty airport this Monday and looked at the arrival and departure boards, I began to dream, I began to make plans.
Of course, plans are tentative right now, and there is so much movement in my life right now anyway that I'm in no hurry. But the dreams are there, the longing is there, the willingness is there, and I haven't tried that before. It excites me.
...but maybe it's just all the alcohol I've been drinking the last month that's going to my head. I feel like I'm turning wild. But fuck it, I'm in my twenties: If not now when then?
Here is a little song about heiliges Fernweh – enjoy 🎶