Light in the Heart

...that's what I have been thinking lately. Light in the heart. It makes life so much easier. It might not make the steps nor pain any lighter. But somehow it's easier to breathe when you have a light in your heart. And a light in your heart means a light in the eyes too, and suddenly life seems so much worth living for.

Maybe it's spring, and the light that made me think all this. Although for me spring means more pain, more days in bed, more fatique, more this side of life not so bright, not light, not beautiful. I think, however, I have been built in a way that more the pain, there is more beauty to be seen. And oh, how much there is beauty around me. Of course there are those dark days, we all have them, but...

Well. I heard a lovely song yesterday by Johanna Kurkela I want to share with you. It's Finnish, but I found a translation. Original one you can find here, and it is so worth listening to, even if it's Finnish, because you just cannot help smiling after that.

A Light Person

You know a route to the horizon

You laugh light to the world

You draw wind's curls

To your room's window

You collect fragments of joy

Drops of sun

You have the sky of January in a panther case

I think that you have angel eyes

And better than the others

You see June's ultramarine winds

Brighter than the others

Colours especially

I think that those are the eyes of an angel

They see the sky more precisely

You know what the birds sing about

And where the clouds will descent

You can be really quietly

Without talking like a tree

And if your heart breaks

It will break completely

But only for a while

Maybe for an hour at most

I think that you have angel eyes

And better than the others

You see June's ultramarine winds

Brighter than the others

Colours especially

I think that those are the eyes of an angel

They see the sky more precisely

You have the ability to grab my had

Let the sad one just mourn their sorrows

On rainy days especially

It's good that you are

Just like that

A light person

I think that you have angel eyes

And better than the others

You see June's ultramarine winds

Brighter than the others

Colours especially

I think that those are the eyes of an angel

They see the sky more precisely

I don't mean to say I am a light person; that song just made me smile. And find words to the thoughts I've been thinking. We cannot always choose, we cannot always pursue ourselves to be happy or see light everywere, or anything beautiful for that matter. Life might sometimes seem pointless, but I hope that, in your eyes, it will never seems to be not worth living for. There is always light, somewhere. 

Yesterday was, as Fridays usual, a day in bed, in several tubes, having an infusion. Somehow I have learned to wait those days. It means a bit of uncomfortable feelings too, but oh, how they make me be grateful for all the other days being able to live my not-so-ordinary-normal life. I think all those brave souls and strong persons forced to live in hospital beds and with tubes and other stuff in them all days long, every day, and just swallow all my complaints and try to be a good girl.

Having to stay in bed so much, my husband has helped me to arrange our bedroom to be my happy place. I know. I have the most wonderful husband in the whole wild world. He knows before me when it's going to be a worse moment, leads me to rest a bit, helps me to breathe when my lungs forgot how to do their job,  somehow knows when I have a low day and bring me flowers or a new pink handbag just like the other day (I know!!!),  or just be there, for me, a shoulder, a supporting word here and there. We have been married 19 years soon and well, I just don't know how much more one can love another than we each others, and I am sure that is the reason I can so easily smile everyday. But actually, I was talking about a happy place...

I know there are lots and lots of you brave souls there, staying in bed just now, like me now writing this. You might have done this already, but I recommend it, if it have not occured to you earlier. Make the bedroom your happy place too. We arranged some space for my table next to my bed (yes, a big old house, big old rooms, our priviledge) and this way I can just pop in and out of bed and write a line to a letter or decorate a tiny bit of a journal page at a time, or put my coffee cup on the table next to me. There are flowers, paintings, beautiful items, and so much light there could be in our bedroom.

And this is important: bed linen! I learned this from my hero friend, who stays in bed all days long. Use only the sweetest, cutest, most comfortable, and loveliest bed linen you could think of. Because think of how many hours you spend between them! And ours, we never use any kind of covers, because our bed is always unmade: hey, I live there. So we have searched for colors we like (soft grey and maybe some soft faded pink pillows) and made sure they are neutral and pale enough for the feeling of lightness in the room.

Now I can promise no more decorating hints, not my style actually, but it just popped in to my head that with a little changes you could maybe better feel good even if in bed. Maybe. A bit. I hope.

I planned to write about snailmal and journaling, but I have a feeling it might once again left a bit out of hand. But next time! I try to, at least. I'm not a person of long term plans and even though I tried to make some how-to-do lessons about decorating envelopes or journal pages my style, I couldn't. When the flow hits, there is nothing else in my mind than just doing, and forget everything else, including resting... So at the moment, only photos of finished things. With my energy, diy-videos are out of question too, so ven if there are lots and lots of lovely people there asking me nicely to give lessons about "harvinaisenkauniselama style", I apologize. I can't. Not now anyway.

By the way, if you didn't already know,  harvinaisen kaunis elämä means unique/rare/unusually/expectionally beautiful life. Harvinainen is a Finnish word that has a douple meaning as both rare and unique.

But now, till the next time. I hope you have many reasons for smile, and can find that light in your heart, it does exist there already, you just have to find it. Unless, of course, you already have.

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-