Scars

I spent a few hours in Oslo this weekend. Or, rather.. I spent about 24 hours in Oslo this weekend. ("A few" sounds like just two or three...) I took the plane down there on Friday to meet up with some wicked cool music promoters, festival-managers and venue-bookers from all over Norway. I truly had a blast, and loved getting to know so many inspirational people!!

But in all the sunshiny fun I had during my Oslo-visit - there was one thing I couldn't leave the city without having done. I took a walk to the building where I used to work a few years ago, and where the Oslo-bombing last July still bear its mark. I took a picture that I wish to share with you. And I'll try to describe the way I felt standing there - thinking about what happened the day a part of my life was attacked...

The first thing I notice is the broken clock. So many times in the past did I look out the window at my office and check that clock to see what time of day it was. If it was lunchtime soon, or how long was left until an exciting meeting was going to begin. Now it's shattered. As if time was fatally injured the moment the bomb went off. My thoughts go to the ones who DID die. And my eyes rests on the clock that stopped ticking the moment their hearts stopped beating...


The Government Central in the background is still bandaged. Its situation is critical and it may never recover from the injuries. I remember when I used to go in and out of that building for meetings or assignments all the time. And I think of the fact that the bomber had started planning the attack years ago. Years before I even started going in and out of the building. Right around the time where Utøya was a second home to me... And the bandages around the building becomes the bandages that keeps my heart from shattering.   


It feels terribly sad to stand there on my beloved Youngstorget and take in the emotions that crashes over me like waves. Terribly sad. But at that moment, there's nowhere else I'd rather be. I see the sunlight bring warmth to the damaged buildings. Like the wonderful people have brought warmth into each others lives after that shocking day. And I breathe. I breathe the cold, fresh air and start walking. I keep moving. Moving on... I've seen the scars, and I know that they are like my own. They're a part of me. And I step into the sunlight.