Seamless

1: Status quo

Change doesn't care whether you like it or not. It happens without your permission.

The love letter to my superhero

In December 2012 I sat down to write a love letter to my first pure love, my first hero. For years I had tried to influence the recipient. To help her realise her potential. To unleash the latent potential she was possessing. To help her let go of the legacy, the misplaced expectations, the unhelpful remnants passed down to her from her parents (particularly her father, the patriarch) so she could step into her own and release her own unique creativity. From a distance, I had watched the recipient, whom I love, suffer in silence. Now was the time to write all my thoughts and strategies down. The indicators strengthened my belief that the recipient would be finally ready to read, reflect, and act upon my letter.

The recipient, the first woman I ever truly loved, was my mother Birgitta. She is an energetic and elegant woman. She is full of life and exudes strength and determination. As one of my friends says, when she enters the room, her presence transforms the atmosphere to the point of near-intimidation. Mostly positively. Since 2003, she had been struggling, more or less overtly, but retained a proud veneer. She remained a woman who stoically believed in the Lutheran ethic of hard work, and that rewards follow that hard work, but she was starting to notice something odd. That logic no longer held true. The harder she worked, the more elusive ...