We often understand the depth of a gift long after the moment when we could have thanked the giver. I’ve heard it said that the soul of a country lives in its music. Yesterday, as I looked through old photographs, lost in thought, while Peter played Finnish folk songs at the piano, I felt how…
Tag: Finland
More Myself
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,…
The Waiting Heart
On Sunday night, I found myself waiting for my seventeen-year-old grandson to arrive. He was making his own way from home to our place, travelling more than one hundred kilometres from door to door. I had a warm meal prepared, the house felt soft and welcoming, and yet I could not settle. I paced the…
Stay, I Pray You
Last night I went to the theatre to see a live production of Anastasia, and from the moment it began, I felt myself being drawn into it completely. The costumes were exquisite, the music beautiful, the whole production tender and deeply moving. It was one of those rare performances where everything seemed to work together…
Forever in My Heart
On your day of independence, my beautiful Finland, my heart always returns to you. It returns with pride, but also with tenderness. Because freedom is never just a word when you know what it cost. It is never only celebration when so much was endured for it. Your independence was paid for in courage, in…
Raindrops Keep Falling
Sometimes we discover our strength only when we have no choice but to use it. In Finland, we have a word for resilience — sisu. It means the kind of grit that carries you through when willpower alone isn’t enough. I like to think I have a fair bit of it, but yesterday morning, as…
Nordic Living
The more we let go of what distracts us, the easier it becomes to recognise what truly nourishes us. I’m sitting here with a mug of tea in hand, simply contemplating life. The steam curls upward, carrying with it a quiet reminder that even the smallest rituals can anchor us. Today was a day off,…
The Silent Clock
As we grow older, the years behind us do not disappear; they become part of who we are. Where do the years go? They slip through our hands so quietly, and yet they do not disappear. They live on within us, just beneath the surface, waiting for the smallest thing to bring them back. A…
A Bird with Two Homes
Even after deep loss, life can still make room for something new. Some journeys are so vast they seem almost impossible, and yet they happen quietly, without fanfare, written into the lives of those who simply keep moving between one world and another. That was what came to mind when I read about the small…
Storyteller
Our lives hold more than any record of them could ever contain. My phone flashes the warning again: Storage almost full. Again. I take a lot of photos. Not for an audience. Not to curate a flawless life. I take them to gather crumbs, breadcrumbs scattered through the forest of my days. Each image a…
