sand and cave

Some connections begin with a simple hello, a chance encounter on a rooftop in Beirut, where the city’s heartbeat blends with the evening air. Back in 2018, little did I know then that this greeting would lead to a journey spanning countries, memories, and the ever-expanding family we create along the way. Turning the years of the pandemic into a beautiful community of neighbors in Istanbul, to later continue down the shared winters in Stockholm, until now, a visit to Amman, Jordan — the unfolding of friendships that transcend borders is as unpredictable as it is beautiful. As cheesy as it sounds, you never know how far a simple hello will get you.

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The final weeks of what had been a long and difficult 2024, I got to spend in Amman. I saw the friends new home — a reflection of growth, change, and new beginnings. I made a new friend, the city itself. A calm and peaceful creature, letting me finding my way amongst its streets and arts.

Amman, in its quiet glory. So tall and kind, a good listener, softly holding my story, never rushing to tell its own. You let me wander, find my questions in your curves and hills with a voice, gentle as dusk, the white city with whispers of gold.

Amman dear, you may be dry, yet you are so alive. Your gaze meets mine, tears reflecting countless exiles, lands lost, homes left behind. A city standing strong and beautiful, an old soul with hands that craft coffee laced with cardamom, knowing my heart. With ruins speaking, Roman torsos gilded, echoing the fragile steps of humanity. A soulful being, caring for arts, full of radiant people, footsteps grounded in the life you had to create for yourself. You show to so many what could be, if we were to live at peace— in peace.

Now alongside my friends, are new little humans, their child, tagging along, growing with us, and teaching us what it means to see the world anew. Watching pieces of my friends in their children — the same spark in their eyes, the same gentle humor — is a gift that fills me with wonder. It’s a privilege to age, to see these lives unfold, and to grow alongside them in ways I couldn’t have even imagined years ago.

Exploring Jordan was more than just traveling, it was stepping into spaces where history and the present collide. Petra, in particular, left me awestruck.

The shades of sand in Petra glitter like they’ve been kissed by sunlight through the ages, while the carved stone facades seem as though an artist’s brush painted them directly into the cliffs. Walking through the Siq and finally witnessing the Treasury emerge was breathtaking, a moment where wonder and insignificance dance hand in hand. As clear as the sun that warmed my skin, it dawned on me— this is where so much of the world I know took its first breath.

The scale of it, the centuries of hands and time that shaped it, reminded me that history is never static. It moves through us, shapes us, and yet humbles us in its enormity.

It’s in places like Petra where I feel most inspired and most aware of how small I am. The grandeur of history and the persistence of human creativity feel like gifts we carry forward, whether in the curves of stone or the stories we tell each other. These places remind me that while time presses on, its essence is felt in the connections we make and the paths we follow.

This year, as I think of where else I might go, my heart is filled with gratitude. I have a list of destinations, but experience has taught me that making plans is often a way to make the world laugh. Things change, as they always do, and learning to float along with those changes has brought some of the greatest surprises of my life.

From rooftops in Beirut to the red sands of Petra, from neighbors to chosen family, this journey has reminded me that the places we visit are as significant as the people who bring us there. Watching friendships evolve, witnessing their children grow, many of our loved one’s age, and marveling at how we continue to expand into the people we are becoming have made me realize the beauty of time’s passing.

Aging, after all, isn’t about losing youth — it’s about gaining the privilege of looking back and seeing how far we’ve come, together. As I look toward the year ahead, I can’t wait to see what lines on the map blur and what new connections shape the story yet to be written.

As the clock turns to what I hope will be a great new year, I find myself filled with anticipation for this fresh encounter: 2025.

Feautered Images: Niusha Khanmohammadi

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    Niusha’s journey as a storyteller began in Sweden, where she wrote for newspapers as a music journalist. Over time, her creative pursuits expanded, bridging the worlds of art, writing, and international development. Now based in Istanbul, Niusha is a multifaceted artist who creates synergies between diverse cultures and explores the connections that shape identity. Born and raised in a small northern Swedish town by Iranian parents, Niusha’s life is defined by the interplay of contrasting cultures. This duality is at the heart of her art, where she uses ink, watercolor and photography to peel back the layers of shared arts, language, and history. Her abstract and expressive paintings often focus on movement, female contemplation, and the stories carried through body language. Niusha has showcased her art in Istanbul and contributed to development projects in nine countries, working with the United Nations, the European Union and the Swedish Administration on gender equality and cultural initiatives. These experiences have profoundly influenced her creative voice, which explores themes of identity, community, and intercultural dialogue. In spring 2025, Niusha’s debut novel, Conversations with Cities, will be published. The book imagines a traveler exchanging letters with cities personified as soulful individuals, blending poetic dialogue with her watercolor and ink illustrations. Through her art and writing, Niusha captures the emotions of movement, rootlessness, and the universal search for home, reflecting a deep connection to the ever-changing world around her.

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