Category Archives: Gratitude

I love running

by in Attitude, Cuba, Everyday Life, Finland, Gratitude, Health, Random musings, Running and tagged , , , , | 8 Comments

I love running. I do. I’m slow, and I have yet to go very far. But, I love running. And, I suspect it loves me. It’s at least good for me.

Last summer after years of stifling the little black dog that barks and growls and nips at my heels and mind from time to time, I made a series of slight adjustments in my behaviour and routines. I’d sunk so low that breathing hurt. Changes were necessary and long overdue.

One of those changes involved recommitting to running regularly. Whilst various forms of exercise obviously carry benefits to one’s mental and physical health, running has always helped me empty my head, meditate on whatever shit floats around up there. Somewhere during those runs, I let go of the garbage that wears me down, both real and imagined. As August turned into September, and September gave way to October and November, regardless of how busy I was or how much I felt unmotivated to lace up and hit the trails, I did. And, it helped. The fog that had clouded my everyday existence slowly dissipated and lifted entirely, and I felt infinitely better as the weeks and months passed.

Running wasn’t so much simply physically beneficial; it was a mental health necessity.

After injuring myself in January whilst running the Malecón in Havana, I was forced to take four painful months off. My ankle healed by late March / early April, but then the flu season hit and, then, I fell and hurt my knees, running to catch a bus of all things. Fast forward to May — four months after my initial injury — and I’m finally getting back into my routine. A few days shy of four weeks back into my running rituals and again the fog is lifting.

This. This is why I run. And, this is why I love running.

I don’t really care how fast I get through a particular route — each run feels like a battle won and conquered at this point. I don’t have any long-term ambitions other than to continue running three or four times a week for as long as my legs will hold up, and hopefully taking part in the Helsinki Midnight Run come September. I won’t win races, but I will stay in the ultimate race — that crazy race called life. Undoubtedly, depression and my little black dog will come barking again from time to time. Whatever I can do to tame him quickly and without too damage to myself or those who love me most, I’ll do. And, I firmly believe that as long as I continue to add miles to my running logs, those visits from the canine beast that haunts me will become fewer and further apart.

I read a story several years ago about an incredibly young 92-year-old woman finishing a marathon. Harriette Thompson, that same woman, just surpassed another milestone by becoming the oldest woman at 94 to complete a half marathon. I won’t break any records, other than those I set for myself. But, I will keep running. For me.

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Metamorphosis

by in Attitude, Education, Graduate school, Gratitude, Helsinki, Inspiration, Random musings, women, Work, Writing and tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

As a twenty-something graduate student, I never imagined teaching. The prize that I kept my eye on at that time was research, ideally in a position related to policy in some way, shape or form. At that time, as an arrogant graduate student rather myopically focused on her own research, I thought landing a teaching gig would be the worst possible outcome of all those hours and years spent as a graduate student.

Oh, the irony. Life has a way of reminding us of just how foolish we can be as young (or, even, older) idealists.

Fast forward 20-plus years, and here I am lecturing to graduate students. What’s weirder still, I love it. After three full academic years of teaching at the University of Helsinki, I cannot imagine not teaching.

Part of my enthusiasm for teaching lies within the topics I teach: academic writing, conference presentations and presentations in general, and grant writing, along with a few other transferrable skills courses. I was fortunate as a graduate student to have incredible mentors, professors-turned-friends who I still rely on for their wisdom and guidance, even if I don’t constantly pester them or hover in their doorways. The lessons they taught me years ago remain with me even now, and often echo in my own lectures. I can only hope that I do these incredible minds and kind souls justice. Because they shaped me in so many ways and helped me to become a more dedicated member of the academic community I now feel duty-bound to serve.

As exhausting as the academic calendar is and as much as I look forward to summer and winter breaks, being an instructor never ceases to provide further inspiration and immeasurable rewards. This most likely reflects the immense privilege it is to guide the pool of students that grace my classrooms. These brilliant, dedicated individuals, wise beyond their years, amaze me. They are, quite simply and, as one professor referred to me, indefatigable. As I sift through my inbox sending reviews and feedback to those who worked incredibly hard throughout whichever course they took with me, some of these bright young minds provide feedback to me. I welcome these moments because they help me do better in future. But, this, this I wasn’t expecting and it has moved me in ways I can’t begin to describe:

…. [O]ne thing that I found particularly inspiring was that you seemed to let your personality bubble through your professional instructor role. I have noticed that especially women often somehow suppress or flatten their personality when acting in an expert position, which is maybe because they are afraid of not to be taken seriously otherwise. I don’t want to end up falling into this pit, so I also want to thank you for showing an empowering example that it is possible to be a professional without burying yourself under a role.

For whatever reason, this feedback from an incredibly bright young student represents one of the most powerful indicators that I’m doing what I should be doing. What I was intended to do. And, perhaps, something I’m truly good at. If my classroom example encourages young women scholars to be themselves regardless of stereotypes and expectations, all the better.

Indeed. As a graduate student, as a young career professional and later as a mid-career professional, I didn’t always feel sufficiently empowered to be me. Perhaps the greatest gift this gig has offered me is a way to find my own voice and to apply that voice to providing guidance to others. Without consciously realising it, my own voice appears more genuine and more authentic than it’s ever been before. And, oddly, more confident.

I love my job. Truly. But, this personal metamorphosis was so entirely unintended, yet I completely welcome it. And, can only hope that it continues. At the very least, I hope my own metamorphosis allows others to transform as well…

 

 

The greenness of spring

by in Environment, Everyday Life, Finland, Gratitude, Helsinki, Inspiration, Random musings and tagged , , , | 2 Comments

It seems like we wait all year for spring to arrive in Helsinki. This year in particular — a mere two weeks ago we endured days of snow flurries and living in a giant snow globe when our feet should have been enjoying the freedom of sandals. But, whenever that shift from winter to new growth arrives, there’s an unnatural greenness to the landscape which never ceases to surprise, delight and amaze me. Each and every year.

I don’t know if it is simply the newness to the green leaves or the sudden explosion of them everywhere. Leaves seem to grow overnight, transforming from tiny buds to giant leaves so, so quickly. But, this green. This green against the darker trunks of some of the indigenous trees becomes fluorescent. Add in the budding green shoots of the grass, the insanely loud cacophony of the birds screaming for their mates and the lengthening days and shadows of those long summer evenings, and you can’t help but smile and feel alive.

Winter—the long, dark, greyness of winter—often seems never-ending and at times unbearable. So when spring comes, perhaps my mind simply doesn’t recognise the loveliness that is this new growth, leaving me confused and processing that colour as something almost other worldly.

Whatever it is about spring and this green we experience in the far North, I welcome it. It is truly glorious and I’ll soak it in for as long as it lasts. After my class this morning, I was standing at a bus stop marvelling at the dark blue, stormy sky of summer as the backdrop to those bright green leaves of new growth. Those are the moments we carry with us as we suffer through the darkness. Simultaneously, those are the images we forget on the darkest days as a way of perhaps protecting ourselves from the darkness. And, those are the images we delight in each spring.

It takes a specific mindset to survive in this environment and not lose all hope of the sun returning to it’s brilliant glory. And, looking at trees in winter, it’s hard to imagine them ever living again. Perhaps this is what makes summer so incredibly glorious and wonderful.

Whatever makes the leaves this green, I’ll take it.

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All that I need….

by in #365grateful, Attitude, Everyday Life, Gratitude, Inspiration, Kindness, Random musings, The Cuban and tagged , , , | Leave a comment

In the lead up to today, my 47th birthday, my husband has asked me nearly daily what I want. My response has been the same each and every time: ‘I don’t know. There’s nothing I really need or want.’ And, it’s true. I genuinely want for nothing for perhaps the first time in my life. At least, the things I want aren’t necessarily material goods or even things which impact my daily life. (Although, I’ll never turn down a new Marimekko frock or office supplies or chocolate. But, I don’t want need them.)

My life—my little, seemingly insignificant life—is rather comfortable and free of conflict. I have a husband and best friend I adore more with each passing year, a cat that is thoroughly cat-like and lovely at once, a job I never thought I’d love more and which rarely seems like ‘work’, more books and yarn than I will ever need and a collection of kind folks scattered across the globe to catch me when I stumble or with whom I can share the good times. Certain elements of my life may not be perfect, but I don’t need them to be. I don’t know that I want them to be. I rather enjoy challenges, perhaps more than I should.

At 47, I don’t feel the need to look behind me so much as I look forward to what’s to come. Goals are more realistic and simple these days, and what I hope for isn’t for me as much as it is for those around me. For the world around me.

This past year or so seems like some sort of wicked nightmare we’ve collectively imagined in some ways. After battling my own demons, and finally feeling as though I can live with them, current events in various regions have provided far too much surrealism and sleeplessness on occasion. It’s relatively easy for all of us to lose hope given some of the ugliness that screams more loudly than the kindness I know to exist. Yet, here I am, still full of hope for all of us and still firmly committed to the belief that what binds each of us to one another is far, far stronger than that which divides us.

At 47, this is what my life has come to mean: I won’t change the entire world, but hopefully I can change someone’s world just a little bit for the better. I won’t fix all the problems in this world, but perhaps I’ll help at least one person overcome some problem that consumes their world. I can’t love everyone, but I hope that I can provide love to someone who needs it in the moment when they need it most.

So many of you have done exactly that for me, both when I was acutely aware that I needed help and at moments when I didn’t. You have provided me with all that I need, and so much more. I am immensely grateful and I thank you, and I hope that I live up to your examples.

Me at 47

Me captured by The Cuban at the Espoo Museum of Modern Art, 6 May 2017, Espoo, Finland.

If you’d like to help make the world a better place, please consider making a donation to any of the following organisations. Above all, please be kind:

Spatial Memory

by in Cuba, Dispatches from Cuba, Everyday Life, family, Gratitude, Inspiration, Kindness, Random musings, The Cuban, Yaima the Llama and tagged , | 2 Comments

Note: This is one of multiple pieces I’ve written during our trip to Cuba this year. This is not the first in the series, but it’s one which seems most appropriate and perhaps the most meaningful for me. Thanks to recent changes, which I’ll update y’all on later, the internet has finally (sort of) come to Cuba! Happy New Year from both of us, and I hope you enjoy this particular musing. 

Many places in Cuba conjure up specific memories and moments from our trips here. Mostly, each of these spaces remind me of meeting various people for the first or most recent time, or stolen moments in which these amazing individuals accepted me into their fold in one way or another. I’m hard-pressed to pick a favourite space, since each person and place signifies a significant relationship both to The Cuban and now to me. But, one place in particular makes me weep with longing once we return to Finland.

This particular flat belongs to Miriam, The Cuban’s best friend and sister from another mister. The two of them are so stinking lovely together it’s a sight to behold. They’ve watched their now adult offspring grow up, but well remember the tiny children they once were. In this building. Once neighbours and now best friends, they are family despite distance and years.

Miriam’s flat is an oasis of peace and solitude, as well as a meeting point and at times akin to party central when the full crew descend. On our first trip here, I met Miriam for the first time in a bus station, and then again at the beach one weekend. I immediately loved her. We then later came to visit her over a few evenings with several other of Pablo’s friends before returning to Finland. Laughter, love, warmth and kindness, and music. I may still struggle to keep up with the rapid-fire flow of Cubañol conversation and kidding, but more than anything, it’s clear that Miriam and all who surround her carry more laughter, love, warmth and kindness than most people experience in a lifetime. Perhaps this is why her space in Vedado persists in my memory when we are far, far away.

The room in which I now sit is simple. Polished granite floors in a speckled off-white, dark grey and black pattern. Despite a crack running across the middle of the floor, they shine like no floors we’ve seen in Cuba. Plants line three of the room’s four walls, several of which are my absolute favourite species and would never thrive in Finland. A huge hammock spans the width of the room just to one side of the clothesline and it takes all of my limited willpower to not immediately stretch out and stay there all day long. The room is rather cavernous with it’s four-metre-high ceilings, yet it is anything but cold. This is a room meant for conversing and sharing. Living and loving.

With the windows open throughout the flat, a breeze carries our conversations out, as well as allows others’ bantering to drift in and intermingle with ours.

I love this space. Much as I love most of our friends’ and family’s spaces here, as well as to the people inhabiting them. Each expresses perfectly the individual personalities of those we love. And, to a certain degree, we carry these spatial memories with us when we return to our own. As much as we bring with us on these trips, we inevitably leave with tiny pieces of these homes. Perhaps, it’s simply that we take little pieces of each of these people with us.

Regardless, this. This space. It persists in my memory, and I don’t mind at all.

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I am grateful.

by in #365grateful, Attitude, Everyday Life, family, Finland, Gratitude, Inspiration, Opportunities, Random musings, The Cuban | Leave a comment
Indeed.

Indeed.

I am grateful. This thought, more than anything at the moment, occupies my mind.

As many things as there are in this world that drive me batty and leave me constantly questioning our humanity, how we as a species got here and how we may ever hope to advance, I haven’t lost sight of the fact that my life is pretty damn good.

Is it perfect? Hell no. But, it is perfect for me.

I’m insanely fortunate to have married the one person on this planet with whom I don’t mind spending 24 / 7 / 365. Good thing, too, because we do spend an inordinate amount of time together given that we both work from home. As odd as it may sound, I’m looking forward to our holiday so we can spend more quality time together without distractions such as email and the 24-hour news cycle.

I know love, both from my families and from friends literally all over this crazy, big world, even if I don’t see many of the people I love as often as I’d like.

And, I have a job I absolutely love, amongst colleagues who are incredibly talented and in the midst of students who challenge me to do better and work harder, a challenge I gladly accept. It isn’t a particularly high prestige job, it doesn’t involve travel to exotic locations any longer and it doesn’t break the bank, but I am grateful every day to have found this job at this time in my life. There are no ‘bad’ days at the office; but, even the less than perfect days leave me smiling.

More than these things, I know peace and comfort and security, which are merely reflections of where and to whom I was born rather than any sort of accomplishment on my part. These are not small, insignificant things although they are intangible. I see them as extreme privileges many only dream of attaining, and I am grateful.

I also know that I drive many around me nuts, bitching about what’s wrong in and with this world, never mind my persistent moaning about the endless Finnish winter. I may not be able to do much about the weather or climate much to my chagrin, but, as naïve as it may be, I’d like everyone to enjoy the fortunes I’ve been afforded and enjoyed merely as consequence of my nationality if not heritage.

I’d like the poor to know the joy of guilty pleasures without sacrificing food or heat or a place to rest. I’d like those who live in conflict zones to find themselves unable to sleep from the safe silence that envelops them as they lay down at night. I’d like the persecuted to be surrounded in a sea of acceptance and love. And, I’d like those left hopeless to find themselves blinded by possibility and opportunity.

I am grateful. And, I want a better world for all. I don’t see these statements as inherently contradictory. I see them as complimentary and representing possibilities to give something back for all that I have been granted.

Full circle

by in #365grateful, Attitude, Everyday Life, family, Finland, Gratitude, Random musings and tagged | Leave a comment

What a wild, unpredictable, and thoroughly life-affirming ride the past five years have been. Why the past five years? Well, that was the last time we found ourselves on the precipice of a much-needed, long overdue holiday.

Recently, a friend tagged me in a post designed to prompt individuals to reflect upon and post photos of five things for which they are grateful. I have yet to post the actual photos, largely because, at the moment, I’m filled with gratitude for many, many things. I’m fairly certain that I would not have said the same thing this time last year, let alone five years ago. But, given that this will be my last post for 2014, and I started off this year attempting to post daily on all things grateful and lovely, here is my list of things for which I’m most happy. (For those who didn’t know, I have not mastered pith and my list exceeds five.)

The primary and most-persistent and consistent aspect of my life for which I am always grateful remains and will continue to be my husband. We left for our last holiday completely wasted and spent from too much work and not enough time for ourselves. Neither one of us was completely content in our jobs, and we knew then that specific changes were necessary. Since then, some decisions were made for us, others we made for ourselves, and we’ve faced more uncertainty and obstacles in the interceding years than in our entire relationship (and, I’d say, these events have eclipsed everything else in my life). Five years on since our last holiday and facing our 10th New Year together, I’m amazed by him each and everyday. Still. There’s no one with whom I’d rather spend six weeks, 24/7. Hell, we practically spend every waking moment together as it is. I doubt at this stage in life that I could spend 24/7 with anyone other than The Cuban. But, I’m looking forward to disconnecting from the digital world and focusing all of our time on one another and the family and friends we haven’t seen in far too long.

Alongside The Cuban, I’m truly blessed by membership in a tribe of folks both near and far who continue to support both of us in ways that astound me. Too numerous to name them all, as well as the many forms their helping hands assumed, it humbles me and fills me with such awe to call each of these individuals ‘my friend’. I can only hope to reciprocate their kindness and care in some way, particularly when they most need and least expect it. After all, that’s precisely what they did for us.

As much as we harp on about the nuisances of life here in Finland, we’re profoundly grateful to whatever bureaucrat decided that we represented no threat, but might actually contribute a little something to Finnish society and granted us our permanent residence permits. I’ve never known the terror of sorting out the myriad documents true immigrants must navigate and understand. After our ten-month battle, we’re safe to remain together and that’s golden. Above everything, that’s all we really want or need.

This year progressed in the most unexpected ways career-wise. Nearly 15 years since my last foray into a classroom, I found myself standing at the lectern attempting to impart some tiny bit of knowledge, wisdom and experience to eager young(-ish) minds once again. Perhaps more surprising to me more than anyone else, I find myself loving it. Combining a bit of activism and advocacy by way of editing and writing alongside teaching took me from the mind-numbing boredom and frustration of being perpetually underemployed to absolute delight and excitement about returning to work after our holiday. I’m honoured to be a part of the University of Helsinki’s Language Services, and indebted to all those who worked towards granting me this opportunity. And, I’m delighted to find myself with a new set of talented, inspiring and dedicated colleagues and mentors. What a difference a year makes.

If you haven’t picked up on the common thread running through this post yet, I’ll let you in on a not-so-veiled secret — I’m tremendously grateful for this crazy little life I find myself living. Never in my wildest dreams would this life occurred to me. Yet, it’s pretty f*cking awesome. Is it perfect? Not even close. Is it filled with richness? I’d say so, although not the sort of wealth measured by money or bank statements. Regardless of the many obstacles, difficulties, and nightmarish moments, there’s no other life I’d like to be living.

As we embark on our epic holiday in the sun, be well, my friends. Most of all, be happy. Until 2015…

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Simple gestures

by in #365grateful, Everyday Life, family, Gratitude, Random musings, The Cuban and tagged , | Leave a comment

It amazes me how the tiniest of gestures carry such intense meaning and emotion at times.

It’s no secret in our house and amongst our friends that we aren’t big on gifts for occasions. We prefer to surprise one another with little things we find that we know will carry more meaning and indicate that we’ve been listening to one another, or little things we hope will bring a smile to the other’s face when things aren’t going quite to plan.

Yesterday was my darling husband’s birthday. As far as I was concerned, the day was entirely about making him smile, feeling loved and enjoying his day. Once the workday obligations were met, it was entirely up to him what we ate, what we did, etc. There was much silliness and singing, most of which was insanely off-key and mine. His smile was all the thanks I needed — and his laughter was an even greater gift.

As a part of his birthday celebration, he requested his favourite dishes of mine, something which has become somewhat of a tradition — Chickpeas a la Vanessita (a creation of my own which I made up when we first started dating) dressed with a bit of avocado and lime and chocolate fudge brownies. Despite cleaning up the kitchen whilst everything was cooking, there were still a few things which needed tidying up after we ate, all of which annoys me more than him and which I normally save to do over my morning coffee.

This morning as I entered the kitchen all bleary-eyed and sleepy ready to make my coffee and tackle the dishes whilst it was brewing, I found a relatively spotless kitchen and clean counters, with the exception of this guy:

A tiny little gestures which speaks volumes...

A tiny little gestures which speaks volumes…

I quite literally cannot stop smiling. As I mentioned in my last post, The Cuban continues to surprise me, mostly through things like this simple gesture.

Lost and potentially found, part 2

by in #365grateful, Everyday Life, Finland, Gratitude, Helsinki, Inspiration, Random musings and tagged , | 1 Comment
Another day, another lost (and found) mitten

Another day, another lost (and found) mitten

On Sunday evening, I spied the above mitten draped on a branch close to one of the bicycle trails traversing through our neighbourhood. The next morning, it was still there and looking lovelier than ever in the bright yet dappled sunlight, as if it were expectantly awaiting the hand to which it belongs.

Every time I stumble across one of these lost and found although not-yet-reunited items, it gives me hope for humanity. They brighten my day and remind of how even the simplest random acts of kindness and charity can mean the world to another individual. Having lost things myself at one time or another, I understand the joy and relief that accompanies that moment of realisation when finding something I thought was gone forever.

It’d be easy for whoever discovered this mitten to have just left it where it lay. It would have been just as easy to have picked it up and thrown it away. Yet, they didn’t. That someone took the time to pick it up and hang it in a place where it could be easily spotted.

So simple. So easy. And, yet, so selfless. And, dare I say, hopeful. Hopeful that its rightful owner would travel that same route again and discover what they had misplaced, dropped and possibly considered long gone.

A few lines from Edmund Spenser’s The Faerie Queene have been running through my mind since seeing this particular mitten, words which are cued whenever I think of items lost and searched for:

For whatsoever from one place doth fall,
Is with the tide unto an other brought:
For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.

I’d love to hang out near one of these objects sought to witness the instant when it is found once again.

Day 49: Proekt 365 (On randomness)

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Day 49: Proekt 365 A random find in a random place

Day 49: Proekt 365
A random find in a random place

I’m continually amazed at how meaningful seemingly insignificant moments can bring such pure and simple joy — random finds, random acts and examples of kindness and goodness and chance meetings can make such a huge difference on days which seem mundane. Yesterday, when meeting up with two friends, we sat down at the table to find this tiny little origami scene. A random bit of loveliness on an otherwise dreary day.

So many moments on most days are utterly random and governed not by careful planning but by the intricate and delicate mixture of us and the various pieces in any particular scene. Change one ingredient and the result can be vastly different.

The Cuban and I took a taxi a few days ago and it was without a doubt the best taxi ride ever. Why? Well, the music didn’t hurt (i.e., blues, more specifically, B. B. King) coupled with an amazing sound system the driver was obviously proud of. But, mostly, it was the taxi driver himself. He was chatty from the moment we opened the door and on the entire route home, hilariously witty and obviously enjoying himself as much as we were entertained and amused. The typical taxi ride in Helsinki consists of a whole lot of silence. This ride was anything but that. What made it even more meaningful was just how random it was that we sat in that particular taxi. Best taxi ride ever. We’ll probably never see that guy again, but all other taxi rides will be measured against that one.

Yesterday’s origami find was equally random and no less lovely. As we were searching for a table, we noticed some folks getting ready to leave and waited. Had we not waited or had we arrived either an instant earlier or later, we most probably would have missed the little paper goose, tiny boats and cranes.

Many of the people we meet come into our lives in much the same way. Chance meetings may result in a whole lot of nothing; but, occasionally, they result in life-long bonds which withstand distance and circumstance and time. That The Cuban and I met was somewhat random. So many individual pieces in our lives had to have fallen into place in just the right way, sequence and time to have allowed us to be in Moscow at the right time. Shift any of the pieces and who knows?

Just as the randomness can cause unimaginable chaos, it can also bring boundless delight. I’ll gladly take the chaos just to experience that unexpected delight as much as possible. Bring on the randomness—at the end of the day, it’s a thing to behold and results in one hell of a ride.