Iceland: The Land That Ignited My Writing Journey
The Power of Place: How Iceland Shaped a Writer's Destiny
Imagine lying in bed, listening to what sounds like a woman's desperate cries in the dark. It's a chilling experience, especially when you're in a foreign land, far from home. This was my reality during my exchange student days in Iceland, a place that would forever change my path.
Sauðárkrókur, a fishing town nestled in the northern fjord of Skagafjörður, was my new home. With its majestic mountains, vast sea, and deep valleys, it was a world away from my familiar surroundings. The Arctic winds howled, untamed by any trees, and I soon learned the true meaning of 'brutal beauty'.
But here's where it gets controversial... or at least, thought-provoking. I believe that places, like people, have stories to tell. And Iceland, with its wild winds and dramatic landscapes, was telling me a story I needed to write.
When I was sixteen, I applied for a student exchange program without a specific destination in mind. I just needed a break from the pressure of deciding my future. Writing had always been my passion, my oxygen, but influenced by societal norms, I doubted its worth. So, when the opportunity for a year abroad arose, I grabbed it, hoping for some respite.
I was surprised when I learned I'd be going to Iceland, a small Nordic island with a population of just 250,000. What did we have in common, I wondered?
As the winter winds eased and the days grew longer, I began to feel more at home. Writing became my sanctuary, a way to understand this new place and myself. Each night, I'd pour my thoughts and observations onto paper, describing the circling ravens and the majestic fjords.
And this is the part most people miss... or maybe they just don't realize its significance. Places, like people, can inspire and influence us in ways we never expect. Iceland was doing just that for me.
One day, during Icelandic class, I started writing a poem in my notebook. The snowy peaks of Mount Tindastóll, bathed in a pink glow from the late sunrise, inspired me. I was so engrossed that I didn't notice my teacher, Geirlaugur, standing in front of me until he cleared his throat.
"What's so important that it stops you from working?" he asked, tapping my neglected exercises. Then, he saw my poem. "Poetry?"
"Fyrirgefðu," I apologized.
The next day, Geirlaugur summoned me to his desk. I expected a scolding, but instead, he gave me an anthology of Icelandic nature poems, translated into English. "To Hannah, From one poet to another," he wrote. "Keep going, and you will be published one day. Áfram."
His words struck a chord. They were serious, sincere, and devoid of any condescension. It was a turning point.
From that day on, my relationship with Iceland deepened. I threw myself into learning the language and reading Icelandic literature. I discovered that Geirlaugur's poetic sensibility wasn't unique; it was a reflection of Iceland's cultural appreciation for the arts. I read Halldór Laxness' "Independent People" and the Sagas of the Icelanders, where poets were revered as highly as warriors.
As I found friendship and a sense of belonging in Sauðárkrókur, I realized that Iceland's respect for writers was not just a thing of the past. One friend proudly told me that Iceland is a nation of writers, with one in ten publishing a book in their lifetime. Nowhere else in the world does this happen to such an extent.
So, you see, Iceland played a pivotal role in my journey to becoming a writer. The enthusiasm for literature I witnessed there, and the many returns I've made since, have reaffirmed my belief in writing as a worthy vocation.
Iceland, with its sentient winds and blushing mountains, will always be my muse. And when self-doubt creeps in, I remember Geirlaugur's words: "Áfram." Onwards.
What about you? Do you think places can inspire and shape our destinies? I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments below!
