The space between

For the first time since 2019, I left the country. I got on a plane and went to Norway.

My visit put a lot of things into perspective. Who I am, what I want, where I want it all to happen, and when.

Even the journey back from the airport was lovely. You're hit with sprawling hills, woodland and lakes.

There's a certain stillness to it. The roads are smooth, the air feels clean. Everything is spaced far apart. There is room for everything to exist.

It's hard not to take a photo and be amazed at how beautiful it is. I guess when you live somewhere this nice your entire life, you see it as the default.

Does the UK have gorgeous places like this? Of course it does. They're always busy, but I love that I live moments away from the sea. Having instant access to that is a blessing.

Slower pace, plenty of space

I stayed in a small town of barely 10,000 for my trip.

Isn't that crazy? Brighton has nearly 300,000. London has 9 million versus Oslo's 700,000. You can feel the impact of this everywhere you go.

When we went to the grocery store, I braced for a loud, busy and hellish experience like my weekly adventures to the local Tesco. You know the usual: people everywhere, stock cages blocking the aisles, people having 30 minute catch ups in front of that one shelf with the thing you wanted.

Instead, we walk in and there are only 10 other people there. I counted, trust me.

That was the busiest I ever saw it.

Space changes how we feel

It's not until you visit a place like this that you realise how compressed you feel. How your mind and body are always under pressure, even when you don't realise it.

The fact everything is so far apart, with less people, changes the way you behave. It's all about the spaces between the things. A little like those moments after you breathe in, just before you breathe back out.

Intentional pauses.

You feel less in a rush to get everything done, because everyone else is taking it easy as well. That kind of more relaxed vibe hits you very quickly and you get swept into it like a gentle current.

Not imposing, not demanding, just a welcome push into a slower way of doing things.

I feel this at home too. When I clean my flat, there's a feeling of stillness you get from restoring order. A messy room or dirty kitchen, I see and feel that chaos and it changes how I act. I never realised it until recently.

The question

Visiting Norway hit something in my mind somewhere. It showed me an alternative to the life I had accepted as normal.

But after Norway, I'm asking myself a new question: what kind of life do I really want?

I used to think I wanted huge successes, a busy London life and to be seen as successful. I based my whole life around what others wanted of me. That's until recently, where I rediscovered parts of myself and embraced being ordinary.

But the fact I not only physically braced for impact as the plane landed back in Gatwick, but also mentally, told me a lot about what I really want deep down.

I want an amazing life, who doesn't? But amazing doesn't have to be bright lights and 7 figure salaries (although that would be nice).

An amazing life to me is a life well lived by my own rules. To me, that's space to breathe, a moment to pause, and time spent with people I care about.

Also being surrounded by a large quantities of trees, apparently.