mamma mia

I was largely unfamiliar with Stockholm, let alone Sweden before this trip. As an avid FIFA gamer in my teenage and college years, I knew Zlatan Ibrahimović hailed from the Land of Svea. Additionally, I feel connected to Sweden through Spotify; an app I can’t go a day without using. In fact, as I type this on my flight back to the states, I’m enjoying the Mamma Mia soundtrack sandwiched in between rows of crying babies. Yes, I believe Sweden now has a piece of my heart, or at least a place in my blood. In fact, my dad’s favorite band is ABBA.

Throughout my 12-day stay in the nation’s capital, I made the most of my time exploring the largest Nordic country. I joined walking tours of Gamla Stan, where I learned fascinating facts about Gustav II, indulged in people-watching in Södermalm, savored the delightful fika experience at Drop Coffee and Johan & Nyström (by the way, I prefer Drop’s coffee and Johan’s vibe), immersed myself in local nightlife at Trädgården until the early hours while sipping aperol spritz, celebrated Midsommar by dancing around the maypole at Skansen, relished Swedish meatballs, and cherished many other unforgettable moments. I love this place.

One beautiful morning, my mom and I journeyed to Vaxholm, an island that acts as the gateway to numerous others in the Stockholm archipelago. This sprawling archipelago boasts over 24,000 islands, and on that particular day, we explored a few of them via kayak. My mom was brimming with excitement as this was the one activity she wanted to check off during our visit. Well that, and buy a pair of designer sunglasses (we checked this off on the last day). Thank you for the Tom Ford’s, Mom.

My intention on this trip was to cherish quality time with my parents and create lifelong memories. These have been few and far between the last half decade with living in LA, the pandemic, family tensions, and setting up new roots in Nashville. I too was energized for today’s adventure.

However, as we were riding to Vaxholm, I got a pit in my stomach, a feeling of sadness engulfed me, and my mind started racing. As I stared at the beautiful, lush, greenery passing me by, my mind started thinking about micro moments during my past relationship.

Why did I have the tendency to make mountains out of molehills? Why didn’t I figure out how to fix the blinds in our bedroom? How many times did I forget to say goodnight before falling asleep? Why didn’t I go kayaking with her last summer? Oh, there she is. The trigger. Honestly, during that particular time, I was still recovering from a back injury, but the ensuing kayaking adventure triggered my mind to think about these potentially sliding door moments during the last three years.

Would we still be together if I had fixed those damn blinds? If I sucked it up and went kayaking, would she have realized how much fun we have together? The hypotheticals continued to cripple my mind from being present as my mom and I began our kayaking adventure around the islands.

Tandem kayaking is a team activity and luckily for me, I had to try my best to remain present and mirror my mom’s right and left paddling as she was seated at the bow of our kayak. Slowly, my racing thoughts about my past relationship turned to only thoughts of “right” and “left”. It’s no coincidence, I slowly started to feel relief. I was present and focusing on what was next, and that’s it. This set shift reminded me about my conversation with Andrew. I had the pleasure of meeting Andrew a few days ago on a walking tour in Berlin. Yes, yes, I know, my storytelling may seem scattered, but I hope I’m making Rolf Potts proud. At the beginning of the tour, I heard Andrew say he was from Charlotte. I lived in Charlotte for a few years after college and figured it was a good commonality to spark a conversation. It was. Andrew ended up accompanying my mom and me for the tour.

Berlin, I knew a bit more about than Stockholm. It played a big role in World War II and hosts many of the horrid moments in our world’s history. A city I know is worth a repeat visit for its culture, nightlife, and neighboring cities. In between listening to our tour guide’s talking points about the Brandenburg Gate, Checkpoint Charlie, and the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, we learned a bit about Andrew’s backstory.

Born in New York but now calls North Carolina home, Andrew runs a catering company in the Queen City. He dropped out of college to jump into the hospitality industry and hasn’t looked back since. He had just visited friends in Montenegro and Berlin was his first stop on a Germany tour before heading back to his 9-5 (9-9 according to him).

Andrew is a person who truly listens when you’re speaking, and you know your words aren’t falling on deaf ears. He instantly connected with my mom about the trials and tribulations of running your own business and we hit it off talking about how much Charlotte has changed over the years. Shoutout Wooden Robot.

What really forged the connection between Andrew and I was his mention of a recent breakup with his now ex-fiancé. We were sitting at a coffee shop during our tour’s intermission fueling up on iced latte’s and Berliners (kinda like a Boston creme pie). There was such a calming tone in his voice as he started talking about his separation. But, my mom returned from the bathroom and it was time to finish the tour. I knew there was more there.

The tour ended and Andrew asked my mom and me to lunch. My mom talked to Andrew about his breakup too and she knew it was an opportunity to leave us to discuss our shared experience over a few beers and a brat. My mother’s amazing like that and jumped to say she would go back to the hotel to answer emails. Suddenly, my intention for the trip popped into my head. It was our first day in Berlin, clear blue skies, and there were more memories to be made with my mom that day.

I politely declined Andrew’s invite. My mom and I turned out to have quite the Sunday adventure in Berlin – we explored every vendor at the Mauerpark Flea Market, did what we do best (shopped), and saw first hand why people call Berlin the culture capital. We observed people from all walks of life that afternoon, and as two Indian-American tourists, we seamlessly blended right in. It’s hard for a six feet four Indian guy with a mop of hair on his head to blend in anywhere. Trust me. After shopping, we watched hundreds of locals participate in ‘Sonntagskaraoke am Mauerpark’ – a weekly karaoke event held adjacent to the flea market. In this particular moment, we watched an older man on stage singing a Bruce Springsteen song in German. He left with a standing ovation and a beaming smile from my mother. We continued to walk around the neighborhood in awe of the city’s vibrancy – a dozen people playing the drums as two little girls danced and giggled around a balloon machine, a guitarist wrapping up his afternoon set, and countless friend groups scattered around the park enjoying a picnic. Our day closed waiting in line for 30 minutes at Jones ice cream in Berlin’s Schöneberg neighborhood. A perfect scoop of cookie dough on top of a homemade waffle cone. Worth the wait times two and a nostalgic moment between my mom and me to cap off a special day.

The following days in Berlin went by, and my ongoing conversation with Andrew remained up in the air. Admittedly, I experienced my first travel “wall” as I hit day 10 of my trip across the pond. I thought of letting this opportunity slip away and decided I would send Andrew a text and wish him the best on the rest of the trip. However, in the Uber back to our hotel from dinner one night, I received a text from Andrew.

I took that as a sign and decided to roll with it. Our plan was to meet up at a pool hall in between our hotels. It was a Monday and the pool hall was a dead zone and the bartender was closing up shop. I’m sure the locals were still hungover from the night before. Sunday’s a big night for the famous Berlin clubs. Anyway, we took the bartender’s recommendation and walked to ‘Sabine Westphal Cafe Nostalgie’, a pub down the street. It’s open 24 hours a day. Classic.

I swear, I’ll get back to Stockholm soon.

The local guide’s review below sums up this place nicely. At around 11pm on this night, there were a couple of locals conversing in German and sipping what seemed to have been their 4-6 beers of the night. All but one with a cigarette in hand. A man in the corner, playing slots, and constantly glancing at not one, but two of his phones. The bar was playing Youtube videos of the Jackson 5 and other classic American jams. Andrew got a large german beer. I however, stuck to water and popped in a Velo nicotine pouch (everyone has their vices), as we sat down to converse.

Andrew gave me highlights about last night/ early morning at a club. I’ll spare the details, but from his accounts of the night, the Berlin clubs do live up to what you may read on Reddit. As time passed, familiar tunes filled our ears and cigarettes took over the air. The conversation was flowing. I popped in another pouch, and Andrew popped in his first ever dose of the nicotine blanket.

Andrew was at the next stage of the relationship with the engagement title. The date was set and the venue was booked before his separation. Like mine, there was no “one big moment” that led to the separation, but micro moments that led to it.

I don’t think Andrew would say he has completely moved on from his relationship, but it was clear to me, he had progressed a bit further than I had to date. I took this as an opportunity to put my student hat on and learn from someone who was ahead of me on a similar ride. Now as a good teacher, he started to ask me questions about my relationship – what led to the break up, was there any one moment, and what I have been doing since then, how I’m feeling, etc.

I confidently talked about what I had been doing to take care of myself post breakup as quitting my job allowed me to double down on myself. I have been diligent about my meditation practice, working out, getting fresh-air on runs, talking with friends on walks, and writing my thoughts in my journal every night. I told him I wanted to control what I could and get my body and mind in its best form before embarking on this 6ish month vagabonding journey. It was a similar initial step that Andrew took post break up too, which gave me a promising feeling.

However, my thoughts wandered all over the place as I delved into some sliding door moments that struck me during my time in Stockholm a few days later. The self-assurance I had while discussing my routines and habits didn’t carry over, and it was evident. He took out his pouch (the first one always burns, folks), paused and said, “Can I give you advice?” I smiled. “Ofcourse”, I said.

At that moment, the realization didn’t fully sink in. I found myself drifting in and out of those sliding door thoughts, while the lingering cigarette smoke filled the air as the clock neared 2am. It didn’t hit me until that morning in Stockholm on the kayak.

We shared a lot more throughout the night and even dipped into insecurities and feelings we had only shared with our therapists in previous forums. Andrew, I want to thank you for reaching out, being vulnerable in sharing your experiences, and giving sincere advice to a guy a few steps behind you in this journey.

I told you we’d get back to Stockholm.

Perched atop a rock with our kayaking group, we relished the moment while savoring fika and the surrounding scenery. The picture above fails to do justice to the beauty of the scene. In this moment, I am fully present, enjoying the company of my mom. Now, I truly understand Andrew’s piece of advice.

Indeed, those moments may resurface in my mind over the next few months in various settings – perhaps while I’m tangoing in Buenos Aires, strolling the sands on the Gili Islands, or hauling a rickshaw in Delhi – but now I aspire to embrace awareness of those sliding doors and channel my energy into what lies ahead, rather than dwelling on what has transpired.

In due time, I will look forward to watching this movie with popcorn at the ready.