What Matters Most

Thank you for asking how I do, you dear soul. Yes, you. 

I was thinking not one soul reads my blog, and did not bother to write, but there you go. You should never assume anything. Now, where to begin. Winter has definitely became spring. Today sun is shining and my daughter brought me the first flowers of this spring. Tiny, crushed, precious coltsfoot. Always the promise that soon, soon the nature will wake up and there will be so much to admire. But meanwhile the modest yet so gorgeous little sunshine of a flower can have all of our attention and admiration.

There has been highs and lows, its called life. I had some serious thinking too, about social media and being part of it. It seems that what ever one does, someone will always try to crush, hurt, and destroy. I have had my share, in plenty. However, I decided that - as one kind official pointed out while we were sorting some mess other people had kindly arranged for me - those persons must have "life as ugly as hell", and as a theologian I had a very good laugh and had to agree. I decided to concentrate on kindness, beauty, and dignity and let those people have their ugly life all theirs. Life is too precious to spent in bitterness, and I have absolutely no intention to waste my tiny energy amount for anything negative. (Nice example. I had to think for good five minutes what is the word for bitterness. Both in English and in Finnish, I could not get crasp of the feeling and the word.) There are so many things that matter more for me, for which I want to spare my energy.

I have not still managed to find my Finnish. It seems to have gone forever. Doctors and speech therapists have had some interesting moments trying to figure it out. I miss it. Being able to express myself fluently on my own language. I was so very talented and good at it, and it was the one thing that I could still do - write - even though I could not work anymore, or do much else. Now my communication in Finnish is limited to short text messages that takes ages to write and looks like the writer must be five years old, max. But there seems always be something there, waiting for the perfect timing to arrive in to ones life. This time it was journaling and snailmailing.

Did I tell you that in autumn my neurologist told me to start keeping diary and to carry a calendar with me always? That I would need them to practise my memory, or the lack of it. Being a researcher seems to be essential nature of mine even though my brain is supposed to be retired, so I dived deep in the world of journals, diaries, planners, notebooks, and calendars. And was extremely delighted to notice that OMP (my four years old misheard the OMG once, and the saying stuck) I can combine them: a calendar and a diary in one, and also, I could do it myself.

I ordered Midori Traveler's Notebook, passport size wonder of a notebook. It was love at first sight like none before it (except, of course, nothing can ever compete with me seeing the very first time my own custom made violin by the best violinmaker ever, but that was couple of lifetimes ago) and I begun my journey in the new world of journaling. Oh, how I have had beautiful moments with beautiful souls in Instagram, sharing our passion. 

Soon I noticed that there seems to be some kind of connection between the people keeping journals and the exquisite photos of beautifully decorated envelopes, and... Well... Here I was again, like a three years old in a candy store. I just could not help it. Being creative, seeking for the little things in life and enjoying them, and sharing them with others. How come I had not found the world of snailmailing before? I am absolutely certain there is one good reason for it. Loosing my mother tongue and being able to communicate only in English, there is enough reason for many good things to enter my life, don't you think? (For some reason I can't change the color of the text here, sorry it's blue!)

They are very convenient hobbies for me, journaling and snailmailing. Journaling ensures me to memorize things, if only the little ones (that matter the most, in the end) so it is practically a medical treatment for a person like me, isn't it? Snailmailing, on the other hand, for me is a perfect way of being social. I can limit it in doses, have a rest, and then continue chatting with friends, and there is quite a limited amount of noise too, or movement, that fatiques me so quickly if seeing people. 

I happened to stumble upon beautiful lyrics I want to share with you. It's about love, but for me, it's also about life. About the things that matters most.

 What Matters Most

It's not how long we held each others hand
What matters is how well we loved each other
It's not how far we traveled on our way
Of what we found to say
It's not the spring you see, but all the shades of green

It's not how long I held you in my arms
What matters is how sweet the years together
It's not how many summer times we had to give to fall
The early morning smiles we tearfully recall
What matters most is that we loved at all.

It's not how many summer times we had to give to fall
The early morning smiles we tearfully recall
What matters most is that we loved at all.

What matters most is that we loved at all.

-Kenny Rankin-