First response under fire
Yesterday while there was a raging fire in Stockholm city, it got me thinking of my instincts and of my late grandfather Åke, a firechief for many decades. When I was a little girl and we visited them, and I also stayed there on my own one time, he and his new wife (whom I refer to as grandma) lived in a central flat with specially equipped alarms. One was a designated phone of the old kind with a direct line to the fire station a block away. And the other was an actual bell on the wall that sounded loudly whenever there was an emergency he needed to attend. Dark blue overcoat with stars hanging in the hallway.
It got me thinking of how afraid I get when the alarmclock goes off unless I am a little awake first, how I immediately sense when something is up, not to mention smell smoke. Yet, there is also a shift within that can take place once the threat has been identified, ego aside, full concentration on service. This is why I so often have a hard time showing patience with people who deliberately creates drama and even trauma out of their own unwillingness to solve an issue with a practical solution that is respectful for all sides. I like to refer it as never having any bad hair-days. Of course I do have days when I don't feel especially pretty or wish I had more of something missing in my wardrobe or make-up case, but I don't make a fuss about it for hours. Not to be confused with that I wouldn't still need it.
Instincts goes hand in hand with intuition - going from surviving to thriving - from fighting to creating.
His brother Rolf used to work in the Swedish army and for the Swedish parliament for the Social Justice department.
Today I met a group of young French cadettes, nicely dressed in their uniforms, here in Stockholm for an event with their school from Versailles! Love this type of synchronicities :-)
More about my grandfather Åke's family genealogy here (tab 2). Photo by B. Gill from his last day of duty.