Maybe it’s the global pandemic fraying my edges. More likely it’s the lack of light.
There really isn’t anything like Nordic winters (which I harbour a seething hatred for).
I can hear you thinking, “But winter’s so pretty! How can you hate it? I’d love to have snow every Christmas!”
Sure, it makes for a pretty photography backdrop when the landscape is covered in a thick blanket of white snow in all directions.
But the day-to-day life of living with snow is a bitch.
Especially here, “down south” in the city, where we don’t have pristine white snow.
Rather our snow is brown with dirt. And yellow from dog piss. And black from passing cars.
It all turns into an inconvenient, dirty mess that’s in the way. All the time.
And keeping the city streets clear of snow means that there are huge mounds of snow heaped into every nook and cranny.
When they have time to plough it.
Because if it snows a lot, the city ploughs can’t be everywhere all the time.
So, often you end up having to dig yourself, your house and your car out of the snow. (Snow really has no respect or understanding of that you have a schedule to keep.)
Every time you go outside you feel like you’re a bag of peas in the freezer.
Surrounded on all sides by the cold.
Keeping you as fresh as the day you were picked.
And the dirty snow sticks to everything and makes everything it touches dirty.
And don’t get me started on the ice.
Even when we don’t have snow, there’s the ice.
These jet-black-but-yet-unseeable spots of invisible ice (yes, that’s what it’s really called) that sit there looking about as dangerous as a dandelion.
But every year patches of invisible ice cause car accidents and broken hips.
Because anyone or anything that unwittingly ventures onto a patch of this hell-ice is going to slip and fall.
As if God himself reached down a hand from the heavens to smack you down.
And every year when winter rolls around, I promise myself that this is the last winter here.
Although I know it won’t be.
But this year, I’ve decided to make one change.
I went and picked a huge, two-day fight with my husband.
Not how I’d planned it, but, oh well.
Eventually, I got what I wanted.
We put down a date in the calendar for moving country!
He didn’t want to do it because he said that if it doesn’t happen by then, I’ll come after him for not keeping his promises.
I wanted to put a date on it to make it more real.
Because I’m sick of it feeling like this elusive thing that may or may not happen.
For 12 years we’ve been living here and we’ve always had one foot out the door.
We’ve nearly left a few times already, but something’s always come up.
A new job. Better pay. Having a kid.
Once, we were even this close (you can’t see me but I’m squinting at the light barely peeking through my pinched thumb and forefinger) to moving to the UK.
That was just before Brexit though.
And Brexit tanked those thoughts.
So, we’ll be heading to Ireland instead.
Which, ironically, is the first country other than Finland I ever wanted to live in!
The plan, since our daughter was born, was to transition from daycare here to school there.
And now that she turned four this October, I think it’s time to make sure our winters are numbered.
Because the one thing we both fervently agree on is that winters here are a hard pass.
So, now our move is pencilled into the calendar for January 2022!
And I’m so excited. Because I can already feel that setting a deadline is having an effect on me.
My energy is suddenly moving forward.
I’m more motivated because I know that the deadline is coming. And soon!
I find myself economising my energy.
Cutting out things that are more dilly-dallying than necessary.
Choosing to focus on those things that genuinely matter.
And narrowing my focus to clarify my goals.
And finally, I can feel myself moving away from this energy of waiting, to the energy of doing.
Of taking action.
My website is done. I also finished sprucing up the webshop this week. Go me! 🥳
I even made a reel on Instagram to celebrate! (Because celebrating small wins, remember?)
I’ve also scheduled writing morning pages in my calendar daily, and I have writing this email scheduled for every Friday.
Because I’ve decided that I’m going to put things I want to get done in the calendar.
A goal is a dream with a deadline, right?
And I’ll be damned if I end 2020 on a whimper.
I’m going out with a bang!
I will get this garbage dumpster of a year in a chokehold before it’s gone.
Because I’m ready for the next step.
I’m ready to let go of this scarcity mentality and embrace abundance.
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