Reverse Culture Shock + Reflections from a Refugee Hairstylist
It's for you. It's for me.
This newsletter is sent every month or so for two reasons. One is so that I can share the great love I feel with humanity. Whoever subscribes gets it for free. At this point I make no money through Leaning into Light. Labors of love are often like that.
The other reason I write this newsletter is for me. For me writing is like breathing. It is therapy, and an essential way I process life. I started Leaning into Light four years ago to honor a strong urge to support humanity through this sad and beautiful life.
So for those who just subscribed, Welcome. I'm glad you're here. Who am I? I'm a lifelong writer, a mother of a 5-year-old and a 14-year coach. Two weeks ago I returned to Northern California after 13 months living in Sweden with my husband and our daughter. I'm a personal writer. What my heart feels, I write about and I share it widely. Vulnerability? What's that? (Wink.) I don't like noise or crowds, I'm highly affectionate with my words and hands, and I never stopped loving rainbows.
Perspectives from a Refugee Hairstylist
Some of my finest moments living abroad were spent with my head covered in bubbles. I didn't expect to find such a gem in the person who cut my hair, but -- Ta-da! Mirsad Cindrak is a delightful and beautifully upbeat 29-year-old hairstylist in Gothenburg Sweden, where he has lived since early childhood. He was born in Sarajevo and became a refugee with his parents in 1993 during the breakup of Yugoslavia.
Sitting in his hair salon chair, you can feel his wide open heart and resilient perspective and you can't help but soak in some of his bright-eyed, sassy wisdom.When he isn't working at Sweet November salon, Mirsad enjoys spending time with his boyfriend and his cat, binge watching TV shows, and being spontaneous. I decided to interview him in July. It's 33 min long and you can listen here.
Reverse Culture Shock
Coming back from 13 months living in Scandinavia has my sensitive self struck by some of our insanity in America. Nope, no place is perfect and I'm not saying Sweden is. Yet did we really intend to design our country for cars? So much asphalt. There are smarter ways to move. Smarter ways to spend our time. And that's just one layer of my whoah.
I'm not one to linger long in distaste so I will move on yet for now, I wish for everyone to get a good look at your culture -- wherever you're from -- from afar for a while. Your eyes will open. Bring 'em back, wide. Your heart will break. Bring it back, raw. It's all part of a rich life, all helping us step more fully into our creative power to create the world we want, not the one we don't.
Jet Lag Letter
Coming back to America was bittersweet. Jet lagged, I could really taste the bitter. So I let my broken heart write through my hands, a letter to the woman who "had my back" most beautifully while I lived 5,200 miles from home.
Dear Nina, I'm writing to you because my heart is filled with a bewildered sort of thanks...
Read the whole letter here.
Thanks, wise friend.
Recently in a greeting card mailed to me by a wise and long-time friend, she wrote that I “more singularly identify with being a mother” than any other mama she knows. My initial inner response was, Oh great, am I weird in yet one more way in life? Does that mean she thinks I’m boring now? Have I gotten lost in the dance of mothering, and given up on my other passions?
Within moments, my little self-doubt voices dissipated. Her words then struck me as a powerful invoking of reflection about the last five years of my life. Read the rest here.
All for now dear ones. Trusting somehow these slivers of love have sweetened your day a bit.
Jessica Rios, Founder, Leaning into Light