I used to think growing older meant moving further away from the girl I once was, but in many ways it has brought me back to her. Getting older has not made me less myself, but more so. More Finnish. More reflective. More aware of time. More tender toward family. More drawn to beauty, memory,…
Tag: ageing
A Year of Reflection
I have often thought that life seems to move in ten-year chapters. The first ten years are our childhood, when so much is formed in us quietly and deeply, long before we understand what is shaping us. The second ten are our teenage years, when we begin reaching for our own identity and trying to…
The Stories We Keep
There is something about flour on the bench and the smell of cardamom and cinnamon in the air that loosens old stories. When I bake with my granddaughter in my kitchen, I notice that I begin again.The same stories. The same tone. Often the same hand gestures. I tell her about my grandmother’s kitchen —…
Skip with me, nanna!
We were just walking, hand in hand, the way grandmothers and little granddaughters do. The day was mild, the sky wide and blue, and her tiny fingers wrapped around mine with the kind of trust that softens your soul. “Nanna,” she said, looking up with a grin that could melt clouds, “Would you like to…
True Beauty
Older generations are worthy of honour for the wisdom they carry, the hardships they have endured, and the lives and stories that have shaped the world we inherited. During my visit to the hospital to see my mum today, I shared the elevator with an elderly couple. They got off one floor before me, and…
Changing Seasons
Surrendering to a season of slowing down is not giving up; it is understanding that we are more than our achievements and that even our quietest days matter. The seasons come and the seasons change. Time keeps moving, steady and unrelenting. Life can feel long when we are walking through it, yet deep down we…
This Moment
Being fully present is the closest we can come to holding on to what cannot last. I rose before the sun this morning and slipped out the door while the world was still half asleep. The birds were already awake, singing their bright hopeful songs into the dawn, sounding far more cheerful than I felt…
Apples of Gold 