A Quest Back Home, Wherever That Is.

Let's see if I'm a Viking

I’ve struggled with occasional depression, but nothing outside of the cultural norm in Canada. I’d simply call those episodes “The Winter Blues” or “SAD (Seasonal affective disorder). Russians might say зимняя хандра (winter melancholy), which is seen as a more subtle or nuanced experience compared to clinical terms like Norweigen’s Vinterdepresjon (Winter Depression). The Japanese might say 冬のブルース (Winter blues). And some friends might say, “Dude, it’s just time to start snowboarding again.”

That’s because the way we define, experience, and heal from mental illness is culture-bound—something I’m exploring during my quest through Europe to the North of Sweden on Born Without Borders.

Part of 2022 was a different story. Waking up with suicidal thoughts became normal. Only two friends knew because I didn’t want to worry my family. Plus, I always had ice baths if the thoughts grew too loud. They woke me up in the morning, boosted my testosterone before workouts (according to Huberman, the bro science dude), and helped me handle stress.

Ice baths helped me, but they didn’t fix me. 

The only times I was consistently fulfilled and tackled any challenge was when I travelled alone. On a pragmatic level, it was because I could save money and exercise as much as I wanted. I didn’t feel pressured to spend money on taxis instead of tipsy twenty-kilometre jogs back to Airbnbs from bars. I could devote time to art and sports instead of comfort and ease. And, of course, I was free to change plans at a whim.

Call it egotistical, but the ability to travel in a constant state of flux connected me to something outside of myself. The contradiction here is that the second I found someone equally willing to say “yes” to whatever the universe offered, I forgot all about travelling alone. I forgot about the calling.

As I often say, my sense of home is not rooted in geography but in people.

My mother and I.

Not to get all Freudian on you, but when I met el espejo de mi alma, it was like returning home to that feeling only a mother can give. She gave me a reflection my soul was craving, but behind the mirror were demons we hadn’t overcome.

As I described in “A Planster’s Healing Journey,” the pain of our story caused the cosmic strings of a quest through Europe to the North of Sweden to snap me back like an elastic.

When someone reflects your light, you see how to grow, but when someone reflects your darkness, you learn why to grow. And ‘the how’ always falls apart without ‘the why.’

How am I going on this quest?

With trains, buses, ride shares, bikes, horses, mules, and whatever it takes to travel sustainably. For tips on how to do that in Europe, check out “To Train or Bus Through Europe.”

To Train or Bus Through Europe?

I’ll also use Home Exchange and Couchsurfer to make this trip financially possible.

Why am I going on this quest?

I love where I live, and my income is only stable enough if I stay. So why?

I could tell you it’s because I want to find a stable sense of home I can take with me, to understand my lack of boundaries, masochistic tendencies, and so on. But deep down, I know a quest might not answer any of that.

The quest is calling every fibre in my body. I know that this quest is the beginning of something new. What exactly? Who the hell knows? What I do know is that I’m here to write.

Writing, like all art and relationships, should serve as a reflection to find something in ourselves. Through everything I research and experience, I’ll help you find ways to start your own quest and break free from any borders that impose your mind. Yes, I want to explore and show you more places, culture-bound mental illnesses, fitness-on-the-road tips, and ways to travel therapeutically, but the core of travel therapy always comes down to the quest.

The Quest Route

The North of Sweden is calling me. Maybe it’s because I’ve been called a Viking throughout my life. No, it’s definitely not because of my patchy-ass beard. Nor are raping or pillaging necessarily my forte. However, I was meant for physically and mentally demanding journeys to distant lands. Somewhere in there is why I’m here.

Whether you’re travelling or just moved to a new country, there’s always mental health support. BetterHelp and The Calm Zone both have lists for emergencies.

Looking for personalized travel therapy, fitness on the road, or journey writing help? Email me at nolanyumawriter@gmail.com.

Who is Nolan Yuma?

I’m Nolan, a man of no land. A writer, educator, guiri, actor, older brother, ocean lover, irritable cabron, hot sauce enthusiast, third culture kid fascinated by cultural psychology—but mostly, I'm inescapably foreign. I was born in Santiago de Chile, took my first steps in Antwerp, Belgium, and grew up in British Columbia, Canada. And the moment I felt a deep sense of home in Vancouver, Canada, I ended up in Spain.

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