On being 50

5-0. Fifty. Five Zero.

Yesterday, I turned 50 years old. And, I am fabulous. I do not mean that in a boastful sort of way, but in a way that my life, as simple as it is, is truly good. And, I cannot quite get my head around that simple truth.

My life at 50 provides me with more than I need, and exceeds my expectations in surprising ways, particularly when I compare where I am now to the dreams of a young woman with no earthly idea what lay ahead. There is no flash or needless drama, but there is a peace and serenity, qualities lacking not so long ago. My life at 50 resembles nothing I envisioned for myself at 25. Yet, this life is far better than I dared hope it would be.

I am beyond grateful every single day to have found a partner who constantly and continually amazes me with his kindness and his patience, his talent and his intellect, and his love, his boundless, unconditional love, even on my worst days. I have a job that challenges me and rewards beyond expectation, and colleagues who lift one another up with support and compassion, and feature friendships forged by fire in many ways, particularly over the last several months. My family and friends scattered literally everywhere across this crazy world still manage to make the girl inside feel special without physically meeting-up and instead popping the champagne bottles virtually. Another cheeky cat entered my life whom I may spoil and annoy and who will keep me entertained and humble. And, to house it all, we have created a place to call home filled with reminders of every aspect of this little life for which I am enormously grateful and at times in awe of because it is mine.

Yesterday was a weird day given the the current pandemic-altered world we currently inhabit. But, the day itself also reflected the quiet and calm my life has become at the half-century mark. A few tasty treats thrown in to remind us what truly matters: health, laughter, light, good food with a bit of rich decadence when possible shared with the two creatures I call my family. And, that’s rather perfect. Life isn’t perfect, but there are moments that echo a perfection we all seek.

Reading the messages and reminders from individuals and moments throughout my life filled me with a sense of enormous gratitude. I am so, so fortunate in ways measured neither by wealth nor material goods. It’s overwhelming at times.

Seriously, y’all. I want for nothing (well, aside from wanting to actually hug you all once again, damnit). And, I thank you all for every text, message, good thought, kindness, shoulder, laugh and gesture. My cup truly runneth over.

A welcome visit

Like everyone else in the world, Covid-19 has altered our world. We have socially isolated ourselves since 13 March, which seems like a lifetime ago. A friend who lives in our neighbourhood has stopped by a few times briefly for visits reminiscent of Romeo & Juliette’s balcony scene without the drama. But, aside from those chats, we have interacted with no one other humans beyond the supermarket staff and each other, our darling kitten and nature for the last 8 weeks or so. The uncertainty and weight of these times, along with various reactions to it are, overwhelming at times.

Yesterday, this guy visited one of the feeders we hang from our second-floor flat’s balcony. Our views largely consist of other buildings. But, we are close enough to woodlands that many birds visit our balcony daily. This gorgeous creature is a more recent and our most precious guests.

A family of woodpeckers visited our former flat daily throughout the spring and summer months. Since moving about 1.5 years ago, our only real regret was not seeing or hearing those woodpeckers outside our balcony, despite moving less than ~1 km from our former flat. We’ve missed that family, and their lovely little chirps as they fed on the treats we left for them. The appearance of this guy last week made my heart sing. And, was so utterly random. At one point as I watched the tits and finches feed whilst sipping coffee, he just appeared. Time stopped. And, the weight of the world lifted. For whatever reason, hope was restored. At a time when I needed a reminder of the good in this world, I was reminded that the tiniest of joy can and often do appear when you least expect them.

Yesterday, Woody — because all woodpeckers are ‘Woody’ to us — showed up to delight The Cuban, who quietly gasped, quickly ran to grab our fancy-ass camera and then crept as close as he could to snap this and many more pics. The look of pure delight on his face nearly made me cry.

Moments like these are so, so precious. And, we are beyond grateful for them. I’ll be taking a few moments each day now to simply sit at our table stare out the window and watch the birdies. No wonder Pollito Pito Frito Fu does this daily.

Covid-19 has not impacted us directly. The curve here in Helsinki and Finland remains relatively flat. But, since most of our families and friends are scattered across this world and far from us, we feel that distance more acutely these days. As accustomed to this as we are, the knowledge that we can do absolutely nothing to help those we love or be there for them is crushing. At least we have the technology now to stay in touch with everyone. And, to share our concern, unease and uncertainty as well as our hope with all those we hold near and dear as well as all of you.

Solidarity, y’all. Be safe and be well. And, thank you for sharing your views from across this gorgeous world. We are all in this together

Eight is great

Eight years ago on this day, I married my best friend. And, I swear, it was not only the best thing I ever did, but it keeps getting better with each passing year.

This past year has not been easy for us. But, those difficulties stemmed not from our marriage or relationship, and related entirely and simply to life and it’s various unexpected curve balls. With each new challenge and disappointment and heartbreak we faced, we did so together. And, we got through them, together, lending and borrowing one another’s strengths at various moments and as needed. At times, just having good long cries, of sadness, of rage and of frustration.

But, alongside the pain comes the joy. Tiny shared moments of hilarity that mean nothing to the casual observer, which come from nowhere and are priceless to us. At least to me. In the 14 years we’ve been together (which is a ‘holy shit’ realisation for both of us!), we seem to laugh more and smile more sometimes through tears. There are more days when our cheeks hurt from laughing together. And, that is priceless.

The music that brought us together originally still plays, although it’s character and the range of notes and genres and musicians have expanded exponentially. And, we continue to learn from one another, sometimes in ways neither of us expect. Each day, I look at this man who brings out the very best in me and wonder how we came to meet, given all the individual decisions we had to take independently to stand on the same spot in Moscow at that precise moment in 2005. A moment from which this blog takes its name. And, I cannot help but cry happy, joyful tears that serendipity and timing aligned so perfectly to allow our love to ignite initially and then flourish further.

My step-son, when he first spent a significant amount of time with us on our own reflected that The Cuban and I have many synchronised thingies. We do. And, their number has expanded to such a degree that we are indeed becoming more alike as time passes. I don’t mind at all, since to me The Cuban — my husband — is the best humanity has to offer.

So, here’s to the day upon which we legally wed. But, more importantly, here’s to us, and years and years to come of more synchronicity.

Simple, necessary changes

l’ll be honest — climate change has become one of the things that keeps me up at night. The more I read, the more I fear for the future world we will likely face. It may not be a world I personally face, but I definitely fear the world we leave for the next generation.

So, I’m taking more steps to limit the impact my life has on the lives of those who follow me.

We use LEDs more these days, after seeing first-hand how much brighter they are during the long, cold and beyond-dark winter months in Helsinki. I no longer drive since my US driver’s licence expired more than a decade ago. I walk when I have the time more often than not. And, since last September I’ve been a vegetarian (completely unrelated, but now I can’t imagine going back). For those who understand my undying devotion to every single cheese ever made, I now eat about half if not a quarter of what I once consumed. And, because y’all understand you’ll need to pry my coffee cup from my cold dead hand, oddly, I prefer Oatly for my daily java jolts. I tried it after being dazzled by a rather witty ad blitz earlier this year, and it’s actually quite tasty. Since they also make other non-dairy ‘dairy-like products, I’ve tried them and like them as well.

I’m fairly certain my own carbon footprint sucks. But, I’m working on as many changes as possible to reduce it as much as possible. And, my life is largely unchanged if not fitter. Walking (and running) about 50 km per week has it’s benefits, from reducing my carbon footprint to allowing me to process the anxiety related to it.

You don’t need to go to extremes to reduce your carbon footprint. Small changes can make a huge difference. If you aren’t that concerned about the world you’ll inhabit in your own future, perhaps you’ll pause to think about the world your children and grandchildren will be forced to endure. That world may not be nearly as beautiful nor as hospitable, and that’s on us. Particularly if we continue to shirk our collective responsibility to implement incredibly simple changes in addition to larger ones that might just save us all.

Nothing but time

I am acutely aware of time at the moment.

The Cuban, ever my greatest cheerleader and most attentive sounding board, has reassured me again and again that I remain a spring chicken. As I enter my 50th (HOLY SHIT) year, I am reminded that we have but one life and a limited amount of time during which to live it.

I want for nothing this year, except more time. More time to spend with those whom I love. More time to explore areas near and far, known and unfamiliar alike. More time to read and understand more about this world in which I live. More time to stop and smell the roses and daisies and lilacs and all the other flowers. More time to face the judgement of my darling cat. More time to run and see just how far I can push myself physically. More time work with talented students and young researchers. Time. Just time. I want more of it.

It amazes me how crazy fast the years pass now. In the blink of an eye, we’ve journeyed around the sun yet again. To me, the foolishness of youth believes in the notion that each of us has all the time in the world and and endless supplies of tomorrows. Or maybe that is the consummate procrastinator who sits upon my shoulder whispering, ‘later’ and ‘tomorrow’ and ‘mañana’ again and again and again. Tomorrow is guaranteed to no one; yet, knowing this and living its reality are two entirely different things.

As I reflect upon the passage of time I want more of it. But, I also realise that I realise just how good I have it in this specific moment. I may work too much, and spend entirely too much time obsessing over the idiocy of others (as well as my own). But, this little life I’ve enjoyed over the past 49 years has been a fantastic ride so far. And, welcome whatever comes next and for however long I have to enjoy it.

And, as The Cuban says, ‘I got your spring chicken right here!’

 

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The Cuban’s traditional birthday chicken. Just for me.

The old world, anew

It’s that time of year when we spend more time outdoors in the light than indoors hibernating. And, the world is coming alive.

Yesterday evening’s traverse through and along well-familiar paths in our old neighbourhood was lovely. We’ve walked (and run) those well-worn paths hundreds of time in all kinds of weather and at various times throughout the year. Yesterday, those paths offered multiple views with perhaps fresh eyes, resembling some sort of post-apocalyptic dystopian landscape against a dramatic, grey sky. It was somewhat surreal. Both old and new. Perhaps that was simply our perspective this particular spring.

The trees are just beginning to bud. The ferns and grasses and low-lying vegetation haven’t begun to spring and shoot up. And, few flowers have yet to break through the surface of the just-unfrozen topsoil. Water flows through various creeks once again, with signs that everything was covered in a thick layer of snow not that long ago a distant memory.

Spring is springing in southern Finland once again. Even if things look a little weathered and weary, the old world is looking a little fresher and new.

A new world

After our move last autumn, we haven’t really had the time or the energy to explore our new-to-us surroundings. Even though we are less than 1 km from our old ‘hood, it’s like we’ve moved to an entirely different city in some ways. And, one in which we feel oddly much more at home.

Our flat itself is indeed home now. It felt comfortable that first night we spent here, despite the chaos of boxes and mess. But, we nested quickly and effortlessly. Beyond our front door, we’re still exploring and understanding this seemingly different Helsinki. Our shopping habits have changed. And, we now rely on entirely different bus routes, which are surprisingly much more convenient and more plentiful.

Given the weather, as well as schedules and other nonsense related to simply living, we are only now finding our daily groove and rhythm, and resuming our evening strolls. Yesterday, we explored a new route I stumbled upon earlier this week when out on a run.

And, oh my. We are so, so happy. There will be many an image from future strolls and runs, I’m guessing. As much as we loved Munkkiniemi at sunset, this is something else entirely.

Now, we’re closer to an island called Seurasaari, an unpopulated and rather underdeveloped little gem here in Helsinki.  Below, I’ve put together a selection from our evening stroll yesterday evening.

We knew this was going to be a fantastic outing relatively quickly. Just after we crossed over and approached the water’s edge, we heard a familiar sound: the tweets of a woodpecker. Much to our delight and awe, we witnessed a tiny little fledgling woodpecker in flight and then chipping away at a branch just over our heads. The pictures here suck. Apologies.

But, y’all, it’s moments like these that take our breath away and make us happy to be alive and here. In this place.

On #Web30

A day late, but who cares? Here’s to the #Web30.

I use an image in my grant writing courses of a user experiencing a 404 error when they attempt to connect to the internet. Finland, given its near-compulsive internet use, quite naturally grants each of its citizens access to the internet as a basic right. Finland was the first country to grant this right, and did so in 2009.

I fondly reminisce lament the utter misery and frustration of attempting to connect to servers via dial-up connections oh so typical up until the early 2000s, and the glacially slow uploading speed at times losing a race againgst a turtle on quaaludes. My students, however, will never understand slow connection speeds or the inability to connect instantaneously and whenever or wherever they like. [Seriously, there are so few places in Finland where you cannot access the internet via at least 3G services. It’s at once fantastic and impressive, and annoying until opting for air plane mode.]

I well remember accessing my email via main frame access when in graduate school. It was so simple and so utterly thrilling to see ‘new messages’ then. Not so much now, as the inbox glutter and spam take on lives of their own.

Funny how our vocabulary has shifted as well in the last 30 years to accommodate this not-so-new technology.

As much as online life can annoy and rile me, particularly when viewing the news these days, it still thrills me.

Chatting with a friend or family on the other side of the globe in real-time. Organising events and rallying interest for one cause or another amongst strangers. Catching up with folks I’ve not seen in years. Planning meet ups in countries none of us live in. Bonding with individuals I’ve never met in person over shared interests and passions. Supporting causes and garnering support for issues that are important to me. And, work. Being able to work from literally anywhere at any time, as long as there is a stable internet connection.

It’s mind-blowing and brilliant. And necessitates new ways of both minimising procrastination and protecting myself from those workaholic and obsessive-compulsive tendencies.

I love digital life, and all that affords us. I also fear it at times, mostly because of misuse by nefarious individuals and interests.

Whilst we all continue to learn how to safeguard the web and address the challenges online life presents us, we must also continue to ensure that everyone everywhere has equal, open and safe access to the internet. Just as individuals in the ‘real world’ face threats to their privacy, security and fundamental rights, those threats also affect the virtual world we now increasingly inhabit. 

Let’s also ensure that everyone enjoys the benefits of the web. Even if they’ll never know the annoying sound of the busy dial-up connection tone.

To safe guard the online community as a whole and demonstrate your commitment to an open web, get involved via A Contract for the Web

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2018

I will not miss this year. At. All.

It’s proved challenging. It’s tested my limits. And, it’s frayed my nerves. It’s brought successes and bitter disappointments, sometimes simultaneously. It’s brought the pain of loss and grief. And it’s been emotionally and physically exhausting.

But, this year also brought love. Kindness. Patience. Support. And laughter, so much laughter, at times through tears.

This year, 2018, is once again not defined by things, but by the people in my life. I am enormously grateful, humbled and honoured to have so, so many amazing people in my life.

Naturally, there is that one person who stands out, namely, that constant known to me as ‘Sweetie’ or “Twewtie’, and to many as The Cuban. As we move into our 14th (holy shit, time flies!) year together, I am still amazed by how much more meaningful each day is through the simple act of sharing time and space with this most incredible human. As much as I love many of you, I am not afraid nor ashamed to say there is no one on this planet I’d rather spend time with.

But so many others in our life, those both near and far, those at once virtually and physically near and dear, have provided both strength and hope, kindness and solidarity, silliness and seriousness when we most needed and least expected it. And we are grateful beyond measure. You’ve cheered our successes, shared our outrage at injustices and aimed to make this world just a little bit better, and we love you for it.

As the clock ticks towards another day and another year, we thank you for sharing your lives with us in 2018. And we wish you boundless happiness and joy, love and laughter, and endless hope and prosperity in whatever way you measure it in the coming year. May 2019 exceed your expectations and dreams. And may we cross one another’s paths as often as possible in the near future.

Happy New Year!