Category Archives: Inspiration

Third time’s charm

by in Cuba, holidays, Inspiration, Poverty, Random musings and tagged , , , | 3 Comments

For those not in ‘the know’, my husband and I spent six glorious weeks on holiday in Cuba, visiting family, finally enjoying a long-overdue bit of rest and relaxation (first time in five years!) and catching up with friends. This was our third journey to the island together. But, it was by far the most amazing experience of the three and perhaps of any other trip I’ve taken. The following represents a few reflections I wrote about a week or so before we left.

~~~~~~~~~~

This trip.

Summing it up in a single word is impossible; describing it all seems just as unlikely.

From its length to its particulars, the journey has not altered too significantly from previous visits. As it draws to a close, I’m longing to extend it. Not so much to escape our real lives in Finland longer, but because I am enjoying this trip so, so thoroughly.

A few days ago, we visited Cojímar, the fishing village which served to inspire The Old Man and the Sea, and then visited Hemingway’s villa Finca Vigía in what was once the countryside surrounding Havana. Having recently reread that incredibly epic fishing tale and The Sun Also Rises a few weeks previously, I felt as if I was walking amongst ghosts, both of the fisherman Santiago and Hemingway himself.

Cojímar is quiet, tranquil and carved by the sea, situated not far to the east of Havana. On the day of our visit, the seas were angry in the wake of a cold front the night before. Ocean spray coated us as we walked along the streets nearest the water, with water crashing into the rocky, coral-laden coastline. A tour bus made its way carefully and slowly through incredibly narrow and pothole-filled streets whisking other tourists away with it, while the locals ambled through the village in groups of varying ages. We strolled through the village with no real destination in mind, waving to and chatting with inhabitants, buying various products from the local produce vendors, having a laugh with just about everyone we met and enjoying the calmness and normality of it all. I can see why Hemingway was inspired — Cojímar and most of Cuba inspire me.

The next day, we visited Hemingway’s Cuban estate, Finca Vigía, which has been kept in the same state in which he left it more than 50 years ago. We (my husband, our three cousins with whom we spent the day and I) flagged down an almendrón, one of the old 1940 and 1950-era American cars which have carted Cubans to and fro for decades now and which everyone associates with contemporary Cuba. Our driver, Ernesto, ended up being another element of surprise and delight, one of many from this trip.

As we made our way to Hemingway’s home, one of the overwhelming realities hit us head-on. Much of the area surrounding his estate sprang up long after he left the island for the last time. Now nestled within a poorer barrio, houses are clustered close together and most appear barely finished, or rarely tended or repaired. Extreme poverty prevails in this part of Havana, and crumbling structures represent the norm. Most of the houses we passed, which were clearly inhabited, would probably blow away in even the weakest of storms. Amongst this, Hemingway’s house and the surrounding estate appear as if an oasis or mirage and seem horribly incongruous with just about everything around it. The contrast was stark and somewhat artificial and arbitrary.

The Finca Vigía grounds must have provided solace and serenity — the place is incredible and unbelievably beautiful. Much like Cojímar, it is peaceful and tranquil. Compared to the chaos and noise of Havana and the area in the estate’s immediate vicinity, it seems somewhat unreal. Anyone would be able to write there. With a stunning view of Old Havana in the distance, particularly spectacular from his writing altar nestled in a panoramic tower skimming the treetops, I imagine he must have been completely and happily at ease. Honestly, I’d love nothing better than spending a week or two there myself, let alone a few years or a lifetime. Indeed, many of the photos of him at Finca Vigía show a completely content man.

As we were leaving, a hummingbird fluttered about and landed in its nest just above the steps leading up to his front door. What a perfect parting image to have in mind as we left. At least that’s what I thought at the time.

However, we ended up driving out of the estate the wrong way and again passed a few of the poorest houses along our route and surrounding his estate. The difference between Finca Vigía and the area around it is starker after spending a bit of time there — think of the most opulent luxury and then compare that to something akin to the worst sort of lesser-developed slums. It felt like traveling from a palace to a favela in an instant. Anyway, as we left the gates of his estate and passed along these poorer homes, one woman, who now as then seemed ageless, was walking out onto her front stoop looking as beaten and downtrodden as anyone I’ve ever seen. My husband and I made eye contact with her and waved as we drove by. The transformation of her face took our breath away as she waved back at us. I’ve never seen a face as electrified and brightened so quickly and easily with a smile that dazzled as brilliantly as the clearest of diamonds. I don’t know that I ever will again. But, it touched me beyond words. It still does.

Later, as we left Ernesto, our trusty driver for the day, who also immensely enjoyed Hemingway’s house, we were again touched by the generosity and kindness of individuals who struggle daily to just get by. Despite knowing that we are the ‘wealthy’ foreigners, he demanded that we phone him to drive us to the airport when we leave Cuba to return to Finland. It wasn’t so much that he wanted the 30 or so CUCs (roughly US$30) he’d make from the fare, a sum of money that most Cubans struggle to make each month. In fact, he said he’d refuse payment of any kind from us. He just wanted to drive us for our last ride before returning to the frozen North.

It’s experiences like these that provide a different flavour to our journey this time. It’s not so much that we haven’t met lovely people before. We do every time we visit Cuba. It’s just that this trip has been somewhat less filtered. Whilst we have done touristy things, we have done them more like Cubans would and experienced them with those who live within that embargoed land every day. We’ve spent less time isolated from the every day Cuba, I guess. And, it is a far, far richer place than I’d ever imagined possible for a place that is desperately poor.

I’m fortunate to have an incredibly kind and witty family with whom we can share these experiences. Not at all surprising I’m sure to anyone who has met and knows my husband. But, kindness and wittiness surround us in the most unlikely places, from the folks we pass and talk to randomly on the streets to the mad almendrón drivers who’ve carted us around.

We can only hope that we return that kindness as effortlessly as it has been given.

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Yes, one person can make a difference

by in Action, Activism, Environment, Inspiration, Random musings and tagged , , | 2 Comments

Several years ago in a discussion with a colleague after a typical day in the office, a brief snippet of our conversation has stayed with me and inspired much reflection. Discussing the many issues in the world around us which we’d like to see change, a world more socially and economically just and fair, I declared my own desire to make the world around me just a bit better. Whether that difference be at a community or national level wasn’t important; making a difference to the lived experiences of others was what drove me, even if it was on a seemingly small scale.

His response? ‘If you help just one person, you have succeeded, no? You have after all changed the world for the better for at least one person.’

So, so simple. And, so, so true.

Both before and since that after-work conversation and revelation, I’ve thought often about what one person can do to make the world a little better. A little brighter. I’m perhaps in equal measure hopelessly naïve and optimistic enough to believe that one person can and often does make a difference. But, it wasn’t until that conversation several years ago that I stopped worrying about how many people or how large the impact was (something which my day job placed priority on — the number of people reached rather than how much better life was for one person). Yet, one person’s world is still ‘a world’. And, perhaps by helping that one person, others’ lots would improvd as well.

However seemingly insignificant the gesture may be, a single act of kindness, a random bit of support extended to another can create good. From holding a door open to buying a meal for someone who is hungry to clothing a stranger to standing up and speaking for those who have no voice, no act is too small. No act is too insignificant. And, perhaps, those changes and improvements to an individual’s ife can mushroom out as ripples on the water—one person can help another can help another and so on until an entire community benefits.

Like I said, hopelessly optimistic. (It beats the alternative!)

But, what of the more significant, larger acts? Do they take a village or can they be accomplished through the actions of an individual on his/her own?

A single person has made an enormous difference with an amazing impact, as evidenced by Jadav Payeng.

Since 1979, this one man has been planting saplings and growing a forest in Brahmaputra, India. Growing a forest. These saplings have transformed a barren, eroding landscape into a lush, green habitat for various creatures, including elephants, tigers and vultures, which returned to the region in 2012 after a 40-year absence.

Talk about seeing the forest for the trees…

If a single man can create a forest, imagine the possibilities of the seemingly small and insignificant actions we each want to do and don’t for fear it will change nothing. Just as each seed may not on it’s own create a forest, each individual action may on its own seem unimportant and carry very little benefit. Yet, over time and collectively, imagine how much better the world could be? Imagine how much better it would be?

Sometimes, it’s quite alright to focus on that individual tree.

 

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 48: Proekt 365 (El Día del Maestro)

by in #365grateful, family, Inspiration, men, The Cuban and tagged , , | Leave a comment
Day 48: Proekt 365 Día del Maestro

Day 48: Proekt 365
Día del Maestro

This post could easily be entitled ‘Like father, like son: part 2’. But, I’ve opted for Día del Maestro for a reason: today is the birthday of my beloved father-in-law, El Maestro.

If we could, we’d be spoiling him rotten today. Hell, we’d declare it the week of El Maestro and throw the man a parade if we could! Alas, half a world away, we can only send him loads of love from this side of the globe, and that we have in abundance.

He’s a rare treat of a man. Kind. Incredibly witty and bright. Compassionate to a fault. Moments of both brilliance and extreme silliness abound when he is near. Thoughtful. Contemplative. A brilliant cook. And, a great father judging by the quality of the man he raised. As nervous as I was meeting him for the first time, that quickly subsided and all that replaced it was a sense of being home and of being completely accepted as a member of his family. If only I could return a gift that carries a fraction of what that has meant to me.

My only wish is that I spoke Spanish. I’d love to take a class in physics from him—the man is obviously loved by his students and colleagues alike given the number of accolades he’s received and students who continue to surround and adore him. He is El Maestro for a multitude of reasons.

¡Feliz cumpleaños, El Maestro! We’ll save the homemade brownies for you, we’ll always find the Russian mustard for you and our casa is forever your casa. Thank you for being the most awesome father-in-law a girl could ever ask for. ¡Felicidad felicidad felicidad! Besitos x

Day 35: Proekt 365 (A family snowman affair)

by in #365grateful, Children, Everyday Life, family, Helsinki, Inspiration, Random musings, snow, Winter and tagged , , | Leave a comment
Day 35: Proekt 365 Neighbourhood snowman & the family who made him

Day 35: Proekt 365
Neighbourhood snowman & the family who made him

This was perhaps my favourite moment of the year so far. Or at least one which became even lovelier as I was taking my daily photo.

Today, as The Cuban and I took a quick break and brisk walk through the neighbourhood, we stumbled upon this jolly frozen fellow, complete with a carrot nose. I whipped out my trusty Galaxy S III to take a picture for my daily blog of all things lovely and who should pop up in the window behind him but the little girl, her mother and brother, whom I’m assuming made him. They waved and smiled and waved and smiled the entire time I fumbled and waved and tried to take my photo. (If you look carefully in the upper left-hand section of the photo, you can see their shapes just barely.) It’s a good thing I got the photo the first time—this was the only one I managed to snap in the few minutes were stood there!

I don’t honestly know who was more delighted: us or them? The snowman was more than sufficient to make my day brighter. But, the sight of that lovely family — mother, dauther and son — waving just as idiotically back at us as we were at them was truly wonderful and heart-warming, particularly in a country were emotional displays such as this are rare.

It’s true: if you smile at someone, they will most likely return that smile.

Days 33 & 34: Proekt 365 (For friends and friendly praise)

by in #365grateful, Everyday Life, Gratitude, Inspiration, Winter, Work and tagged , , | 1 Comment
Day 33: Proekt 365 A friendly snow angel for a friend

Day 33: Proekt 365
A friendly snow angel for a friendly friend

In a chat with a close friend months ago, he’d asked and I’d promised to do a snow angel when there was finally enough snow on the ground in Helsinki to allow for such a creation. Yesterday afternoon, I finally had the opportunity to lie down and fan my arms and legs like a child in my attempt to create a snow angel of the finest order. I can’t say that my angels were particularly lovely, but what fun it was to revisit a childhood thrill.

A little later in the evening, after I’d already sent version 1.0, we finally looked out our kitchen window to see version 2.0, which looked heaps better from our third-floor vantage point. I neglected to make my post yesterday. But, it was a high point of the day. A day late it may be, but it is still just as friendly today as it was last night. And, oddly, it still remains undisturbed.

I’ve yet to take a photo for today. But, honestly, I don’t know how’d I’d capture a particularly lovely moment from the day. Before I get ahead of myself, a little background history is in order.

The life of a freelancer is often characterised by periods of feast (more work than you know what to do with) or famine (being bored out of your mind). The last few months now have been downright gluttonous, which is great but also at times hugely challenging. This past week, I was a bit behind on work and was suffering from the worst sort of writer’s block at the most inopportune of times. There’s never a good time for it when 90% of my work relies on putting fingers to the keyboard and creating something logical and meaningful. But, this was particularly worrisome given the already tight deadlines my client and I were facing. I managed to fight my way through a very rough draft and sent it on thinking that it was utter shit. And, then, promptly turned my attention to other items on my to-do list along with a bit of R&R and socialising to recharge.

With that as the backdrop, today’s high point came when discussing my work with my client. Without recounting the entire conversation here (which would just be weird on all sorts of levels), it was probably one of the nicest bits of praise I’ve ever received from a client. First, I’d managed to capture the essence of what they wanted (which is always the main objective), and second, it made them excited about the idea for this particular body of work. (Whilst I recognise this is incredibly vague, it has to be given the nature of the work and the proprietary information included in that particular task.)

This really made my day. Not just because it’s nice to know that I’ve managed to do my job relatively well, but because I have a tremendous amount of respect for the organisation with which I’m working on this particular project and specifically for the individual managing my work . As he recognised, I am my own worst critic and tend to be entirely overly self-deprecating. To say I’m happy and relieved with his assessment of my work is an enormous understatement. There must have been a moment during our call when he heard my very audible ‘phew’.

There’s no way to capture on film that particular moment which took place entirely in a virtual space. But, it is captured in my memory. And, that’s not a bad way at all to call it a day on this particular Monday.

Day 22: Proekt 365 (Getting back tenfold what you put out there…)

by in #365grateful, Inspiration, Knitting, Random musings and tagged , , | 4 Comments
Day 22: Proekt 365 There is not better thanks than this

Day 22: Proekt 365
There is no better thanks than this

When friends of mine from Moscow decided to move back to Europe after a few years in Asia, I was delighted to make their young son a few wooly items to help ward off the winter chill. That his mother is a fellow knitter made it all the more special for me.

The logistics of making things for someone so far away aside, this was a delight of a project. All of the items were made not using patterns available, but by modifying existing ones (I guess you could say that I designed them, but I am by no means a designer). Finally mailing them off last week to welcome these fine folk to their new home gave me a bit of a thrill, I confess. Whilst I was anxious that a) they’d approve and b) everything would fit the little darling well and allow him to grow a bit, shipping off that particular care package was a real treat. The wait for them to arrive safely has been torture!

Today, I received a notification that a photo had been posted in which I was tagged to find the above image. If you aren’t smiling, you should be. I certainly am.

No thanks is required really when images like these land in your inbox. At least not for me. Today has been that sort of day — another friend finally received her welcome blanket for her soon-to-arrive daughter, which was another lovely image on my desktop, and another friend received a little something to brighten her day.

Just knowing that those things mean something to each of these people who make  my world better is enough. The thanks and pics are added bonuses. If I can’t be there to personally hand them over to their new owners, I’ll gladly take the photos. They make the time and effort infinitely rewarding and worth so much more.

Be warm, you adorable bundle of cuteness! And, when you grow out of these, Auntie V will gladly work on some other wooly bits for you.

Day 5: Proekt 365

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Day 5: Proekt 365 It's all about the light.

Day 5: Proekt 365
It’s all about the light.

Light is a precious commodity in Helsinki in winter. So, when LUX comes to town, you go. It’s all about the light.

My favourite installation this year was a gigantic blinking-light pinball machine with sound on the fascade of a building in downtown Helsinki. I didn’t get to play it, but I loved it all the same.

Thanks, LUX, for brightening the otherwise dark January evening when light is exceedingly rare.

Day 4: Proekt 365

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Day 4: Proekt 365 My first finished object for 2014. It will not be the last.

Day 4: Proekt 365
My first finished object for 2014. It will not be the last.

What on earth did I do before a friend re-introduced me to the world of knitting and other needlecrafts a few years ago? Has it really only been three years since I picked up a pair of needles and dove into the fine fibre world of k2, p3*?

It’s hard to believe, but, yes, just 3 years ago my friend Brad (who lives in Amsterdam with his fabulous husband and bestest of hounds, Rusty) talked of knitting, and I asked if he’d be willing to show me how at some point. At the time, I was quite stressed and thought it might be a way to re-focus my mind, whilst also providing a creative outlet. It had been years since I’d knit anything and I never really finished a project. I was more of a happy hooker in my youth (minds out of the gutter, please!). In an incredibly kind gesture, Brad gave me a set of bamboo needles and provided a bit of instruction and inspiration just before / after New Year’s Eve 2010-11.

Little did we know….

When I returned to Helsinki after that New Year’s trip with my husband, I found a group of expat women in Helsinki who are a part of the American Women’s Club in Finland and who meet regularly to knit, crochet, craft and generally support and help one another. Not only did I get some incredibly helpful guidance on knitting, but I’ve also and perhaps more importantly forged lifelong friendships with quite a few talented, brilliant and exceptionally kind women.  I honestly don’t know how I’d have mentally and emotionally survived these past several years without knitting, but more specifically without the friends I’ve made through my crafting journey.

Knitting has also reminded me of one of the most amazing women I’ve ever been fortunate enough to have in my life — my grandmother. Katharine ‘Babe’ Louise Baring Fuller was not only one of the wittiest and strongest of women I’ve ever known, she was incredibly gifted with a rare and precious talent.

Born and raised (in Texas) at time when women’s roles were very much different to today, and when skills such as sewing and crafting were expected rather than honed as luxurious hobbies, she took her craft seriously. When I was a young girl, she taught me the fine skill of touching and feeling fabrics before looking at labels to determine quality and fibre content. When working on a particular craft, she demonstrated how patience is just as important as technique — if you rush a project, you’re likely to mistakes no matter how skilled you are (which is a lesson that transcends all of life it seems, and one which has taken a long, long time to finally learn).

In addition to her random acts of silliness and infectious laugh, I will forever recall how zen-like she was when crafting. She was an expert seamstress who made her own clothes and whose sewing ‘station’ I would do just about anything to have now. Sewing for her was more a matter of necessity since she was so, so tiny and petite sizes were rarely if ever an option. We would browse the latest fashions  on offer at Saks and Neiman’s and then she would go buy the fabric and make it herself. Her skills were impressive then; but, I am even more in awe of her now that I understand just what goes into making one’s own clothes without a pattern. She was incredible.

But, her real artistry and talent was most visible in her needlepoint. From the very large Christmas stockings with images and scenes matching the passions and personalities of each family member she made one year to the various throw pillows around the house and pictures of idyllic scenes on the walls of every family member’s home, the woman was absolutely gifted. Her work was impeccably perfect and each viewing reveals further details that were all of her own design. Needlepoint mesh was her canvas, and she painted with passion through her needles and thread.

The image of her sitting serenely in her love seat surrounded by the tools of her craft with a look of utter solace and complete focus and joy as she worked is forever burned into my consciousness. Zen and the Art of Needlecraft, I say. And, it’s master is and always shall be Grandma.

Whilst I wish that I could share my projects with her now, it comforts me to feel as though I’m carrying on her legacy. (I’d say big shoes to fill, but the woman had incredibly tiny feet!) It may be a different type of needle and thread (although she did knit and crochet as well), I know she’d be proud and it gives me no small measure of joy to know that at least some of her talent seems to have made its way to me.

She’d also find all those various dropped stitches, and totally understand and relate to my quest for perfection in everything I knit or craft.

Knitting has given me infinitely more than I ever expected. I can’t imagine a day that didn’t include some form of crafting even if for a few stolen moments. From knitting to crochet to quilting or sewing, each stitch reminds me of the friends it has brought my way as well as how it connects me to my beloved grandmother. As if all of that wasn’t enough, it has also brought me an unusual form of mediation and a few lovely pairs of socks, scarves, hats and blankets to ward off the winter chill.

For all of this and infinitely more, I am immeasurably grateful. (Thank you, thank you, thank you, Brad and all the Helsinki Knittas!)

*k2, p3 refers to ‘knit 2 stitches, purl 3 stitches’, for those not in the know. 😉

Farewell, 2013! Hello, 2014!

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One year ago, my hopes and wishes for 2013 were simple enough: secure residence permits for my husband and I in a single country (not as easy as you’d think) and secure steady work for the both of us after a few difficult and lean years.

One year on, we can happily mark both of those wishes as fulfilled. And, that ain’t nothing.

This year has been such an incredible roller coaster. As we say ‘farewell’ to 2013, our hopes for 2014 are again simple. Perhaps that’s as it should be. Along with ambitions and resolutions to improve our health and be fitter, eat better and waste less, and to be better, kinder humans, what we actually work towards is rather simple: a life worth living; friends and family with whom we can share the good, the bad and the mundane; contributing to a better and more humane world even if it is on an infinitely small scale; and an occasional moment of ‘wow!’ thrown in just because we all deserve those.

Upon reflection, 2013 brought incredibly great tidings to us. For that and all the many things for which we are fortunate we are grateful and thankful, especially to all those individuals in our life who helped and supported us during several tumultuous and uncertain years, and through a residency permit battle which was epic. Despite the disappointments and heartbreak that are inevitably a part of life, it hasn’t been a completely shitty year.

Now, for 2014. Twenty-fourteen!

May it be a year filled with more joy than sadness, more hope than fear, more gratitude than disappointment, more kindness than strife and more understanding and compassion than disinterest. May it be filled with health and great food, and may you and yours enjoy inspiration in whatever you do and all that you do.

Happy New Year, y’all! С Новым Годом! Feliz Año Nuevo! Onnellista Uutta Vuotta! Gott Nytt År!