Björk has cancelled her Iceland Airwaves shows! I might have expected this from her. Last time I saw her was in Sydney, in the Pitt St Mall, in a bookshop, at the register next to me. I’d seen her the night before in concert in the forecourt of the Opera House and she was, of course, astounding. I’m not usually much of a celebrity-botherer but I couldn’t resist speaking to her. I simply said hello and thanked her for an awe-inspiring show. She whispered a thank you and then vanished into the mall. Next thing I heard, she’d cancelled the rest of her world tour! And now she’s done it again!

Apparently this time it’s a “scheduling conflict” though I have my doubts about that. How do you schedule something over the coolest hometown music festival ever? I’m calling shenanigans on this one! Mind you, I’m also reserving judgment on the grounds that, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, Björk is only human and may have personal reasons for which “scheduling conflict” is a polite euphemism. To give context for my compassion, I’m in the midst of reading All My Puny Sorrows by Miriam Toews, which ostensibly tells the story of an extraordinary musician dealing with depression and suicidal tendencies (I know, what am I doing reading that? I couldn’t resist the beautifully melancholic title and so far, it’s a worthwhile read). I don’t mean to suggest Björk is in a bad way, I’m just saying that we don’t always know what’s going on with people so I wish her well.

Nonetheless, there’s no denying that it sucks for me! Especially now I’ve invested a relatively large sum of highly-theoretical money in airfares and accommodation all to see her. Last time I checked, standard travel insurance doesn’t cover cancellation of impulsively bought music festival tickets and associated costs, no matter how whimsical the impulse or great the artist.

The question now becomes: If seeing Björk was the spark that ignited this trip, was that enough to light a fire even though the spark itself has been extinguished? Thankfully, I believe it was.

In my previous blog on this topic, I said I needed a miracle. I haven’t received it yet though I’ve taken on new clients and odd jobs. Whilst that will cool the water I’m in, it won’t turn it into ice or Iceland. I’m starting to think that this one might be a slower burn though. I’ve long believed in the power of the imperative – if something has to happen, it will, as though the necessity catalyzes the outcome. Or perhaps it’s simply Einstein’s theory of relativity in practice: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. My previous ‘miracles’ had such force behind them and were accordingly met by sudden and powerful solutions. This is different – it doesn’t have the same urgency or dynamic desperation and now of course, it has a big Björk-shaped hole in it! There is still considerable energy behind it but the solutions are coming more slowly and steadily.

That’s not a bad thing. In fact it’s a very good thing.

All that flinging myself off cliff edges in recent years to see if I can fly has landed me here at the other side of the abyss. This is it. This is my life and how I live it, and more importantly, how I like it. If I want to keep building towards a life I love, the ‘miracles’ I now seek need to be more sustainable and self-perpetuating. This experience is certainly baring that out.

If it sounds like I’m growing up and settling down, I’ve misled you. If anything, the opposite is true. It’s more a case of having fumbled my way to the end of enough races that I’m now starting to find my stride. Björk or not, here I come and I’m gathering pace!