I Started in Lapland and Ended Up in Ukraine

I was watching the Finnish television series Arctic Circle, dubbed into English. (The snowy landscape is incredible—says the Texan who has never seen truly deep snow.) The story takes place in Finnish Lapland, and at one point Germany enters the picture during World War II. 

My first thought was simple. Why would Germany care about one of Europe's coldest, most remote places? The answer surprised me.

Nickel.

Beneath the frozen ground near Petsamo lay some of Europe's richest nickel deposits. During World War II, nickel wasn't just another metal. It was essential for producing armor plate, aircraft engines, stainless steel, and countless other military supplies. Suddenly, Germany's presence in northern Finland made a lot more sense.

But did my curiosity stop there? No. I wasn't looking for a lesson in World War II. I only wanted to understand a side story in the television series. But when the Nickel source made sense, I started to wonder whether every age has had its own version of a resource so valuable that it quietly shaped history. 

The farther I looked, the more familiar the pattern became. One question led to another, and before I knew it I was reading about nickel mines, the Bronze Age, coal, lithium, and eventually Ukraine.

The Bronze Age wasn't possible without tin and copper. These metals were often found hundreds of miles apart—in places like Cornwall, Afghanistan, Cyprus, and the Iberian Peninsula. Entire trade networks developed simply to bring them together.

Then came the Industrial Revolution. Coal transformed everything. Factories, steam engines, railroads, and growing cities all depended on it. It wasn't an accident that Britain's great industrial centers grew where coal could be mined. The same was true in Germany's Ruhr Valley and in the coalfields of Appalachia in the United States.

Today's critical resources have different names.

• Lithium for batteries.
• Graphite for lithium-ion batteries.
• Rare earth elements for powerful magnets used in electronics, wind turbines, and defense.
• Cobalt for batteries and high-performance alloys.

Then there is poor, besieged Ukraine. It possesses remarkable deposits of many of these same resources, including lithium, titanium, graphite, manganese, iron ore, uranium, and potential rare earth elements.

Taken together, these minerals help power much of the modern world, from the phone in your pocket to electric cars, airplanes, wind turbines, medical equipment, and national defense systems.

I found it fascinating that one evening's curiosity had led me from a television drama set in Lapland to reading about the critical minerals that shape today's world.

This wasn't meant to be an expert's guide to critical minerals. It was a rabbit hole I wandered down. With Google and AI, it's easier than ever to satisfy a sudden burst of curiosity. The funny part is that I'll probably forget half of what I learned by tomorrow morning. But I won't forget the feeling of discovering it.

And did you notice? I have a new rabbit-hole mascot. Whenever you see this little illustration, you'll know I started with one question that led me on an interesting adventure down the Rabbit Hole. 

Has your path taken you down any Rabbit Holes lately? 

 

Did I do something wrong... or did something simply go wrong

 

This weekend I drove over a set of railroad tracks a little too fast and a hose came loose underneath my car and started dragging on the ground. The car was drivable, if only to the repair shop. Not a disaster. Just one of those annoying things that suddenly changes your plans. 

Then an email arrived. An old work friend was in town and wanted to get together. I was delighted. I also knew I couldn't do it.

When she kindly offered to come to my apartment instead, I surprised myself. I said no. Not because I didn't want to see her. I did. I wanted to laugh with someone who knew me while I was still in my working/mother mode, leaping tall buildings with a single bound. 

But I also knew I needed to be alone. Then I remembered something else. I had promised my neighbor I would take her to the grocery store. She is so good to me, sharing wonderful home-cooked meals, and I genuinely wanted to help her and do my share. Instead, I had to tell her my car wasn't safe to drive. 

Three disappointments. A broken car. A missed visit. An important promise postponed. I soon realized I felt trembly inside. As I sat with that feeling, I found myself asking, What exactly am I feeling?

At first I thought it was guilt. Was I letting everyone down? Should I have tried harder to make everything work? Then another possibility occurred to me.

Maybe this wasn't guilt at all. Maybe it was grief or sorrow. We usually think of grief as something reserved for funerals. But maybe some smaller griefs or sorrows can quietly happen. 

The grief of the afternoon you were looking forward to. The grief of not being able to help someone you care about. The grief of a day that simply didn't turn out the way you imagined when you woke up.

That led me to another question. Did I do something wrong... or did something simply go wrong? Those are not the same.

If I did something wrong, then I should take responsibility. If I was careless or dishonest or hurt someone unnecessarily, that's guilt. Guilt asks me to make things right. 

But if something simply went wrong. If my car broke. If my plans fell apart. If life handed me three disappointments before lunch, well then, perhaps what I'm feeling isn't guilt. Perhaps it's sorrow. Perhaps it's grief. That distinction brought me peace.

I realized I wasn't a bad friend because I couldn't meet my old coworker. I wasn't a bad neighbor because my car wasn't safe to drive. I was simply a woman having a difficult day.

Retirement has been teaching me something I never learned while I was working and being a single Mom. Not every problem has to be solved immediately. Not every disappointment is a personal failure.

My problems did not disappear but something inside me changed. The trembling quieted. Not because the problems had gone away, but because I had finally stopped carrying grief or sorrow as though it were guilt. Maybe that's a question worth keeping on the back burner for all of us.

The next time life disappoints you, ask yourself:

Did I do something wrong... or did something simply go wrong?

The World is Burning

 

The Burning of the Houses of Lords and Commons, 16 October 1834, 1835, Joseph Mallord William Turner, (British, 1775–1851) 

The Burning of the Houses of Lords and Commons, 16th October, 1834, Philadelphia

These photos were borrowed from ArtLust. Click on the Link for the full article, including a reference to the city of Collins, a First Peoples community. 

It just feels a little less painful to look at a fire 200 years old instead of today. 

More later ....