Hello there.
It appears a week slipped through my grasp, unaccounted for. My apologies for this brief lapse into the void.
The past week was a gauntlet for the soul, a deep dive into the labyrinthine corridors of self and past traumas. It's a challenging journey, yet there's a peculiar sort of beauty when circumstances conjure ghosts from our past, and our bodies react with ancient defense mechanisms, revealing our vulnerabilities. If we dare to give these shadows space, time, and attention, if we believe in the strength within us and face our fears head-on, allowing them to wash over us like a chilling wave, then, perhaps, our bodies can begin the delicate process of healing, inching us closer to a more authentic existence.
Last week, Guðni Th invited me for coffee at Bessastaðir. My father, Karl Grönvold, a voracious reader of science literature, has always spoken highly of Guðni's works. We spoke of futures yet unwritten, and I'd wager it won't be long before his next tome graces the shelves.
There was a fleeting moment when the mantle of presidency seemed within reach, a path I contemplated, yet ultimately veered away from. I had even entertained the notion of commissioning a new suit for the hypothetical campaign. My focus would have been on health, education, and innovation, harnessing the office to spotlight solutions. Someone once told me, "Every Icelander abroad is an ambassador of our nation, for we are few, and those overseas often encounter an Icelander for the first time." This was a time when asking foreigners, "How do you like Iceland?" was a query of genuine curiosity. Now, it's a given— ours is the finest land under the sun, no question necessary. Yet, there's always room for improvement.
My heart sank when Katla, my faithful canine companion, injured her paw, limping under the weight of an invisible burden. Likely a sprain. She's on the mend, thankfully, but witnessing the pain of a loved one is a torment like no other. She's better now, her spirits high once more.
I celebrated my 42nd year on a leap day, surrounded by a kaleidoscope of friends, each more vibrant and diverse than the last.
Plans for Portugal are set in stone; we embark next week. Lisbon is our first stop, from where we shall journey to enclaves where artists dwell and creation breathes life. Tales of this adventure may well find their way here, in time.
Presently, a shadow hangs over me, so I shall draw this to a close.
Till we meet again, in a week or two.
Love and peace.