A necklace

It seems that life is intent on reminding me of the validity and ubiquitousness of my favorite word: juxtapose (to place side by side, especially for comparison or contrast, fyi).  The sorrows and joys of life are lined up side by side, one dark, one light, followed by another dark one, then perhaps a light one--like beads strung on a necklace.

It seems that there has been a fair share of dark in life recently, as pertains to those around me and their processes.  My aunt has cancer.  A friend has heartbreak.   My own thoughts and energy have been murky.

But on a brighter note, my parents will move back to Finland in two days.  They are returning to a land that has changed much since they lived here, and from a country that is the opposite in weather, temperament and location.  It will not be a painless change, but I trust it will be a good one.

Then, along with this wonderful news of family reunited, there is once again the shadow side of loss. My uncle passed away.  I don't grieve on his behalf because he went somewhere that I long to go, to the other side of finite time, to a joyous eternal life.  But on this side of time, I feel the loss.  I know my aunt and cousins and their spouses and children have to deal with a new reality that is missing an important piece.  My uncle and aunt had been married for over half their lives; they met when my aunt was 14. It's not just a hole in your life when such a person passes away, it's a part of yourself that goes, too.

So, I sit here at the kitchen table, staring out at a brilliant blue sky and sunlit apartment buildings, contemplating the intricacies of life to the rhythm of the wall clock and my own keyboard typing. Light. Dark. Light. Dark. Each bead of the necklace is carefully juxtaposed by the one beside it, adding luster, adding beauty, adding content.

May we wear it with hope, ever with hope.

Valentino

RIP, Valentino.
Thank you for your years of service and adventure.
In our long line of old cars, you were the oldest and most temperamental. You liked to crank with a choke and frequently pause mid-intersection.  It was always a risk on rainy days to take you for a spin, since it was impossible to know whether your wipers would have strength to keep swishing. You've received many a dent and a scratch, fewer washes than you needed, and extra spark cables to keep your juices going.  I will forever remember the time you decided to attract the ladies with a new scent: eau d'gasoline. However, we soon rid you of that fetish, as it was slightly detrimental to our wellbeing.  You contained many a friendly conversation, pick-ups and carry-homes, mökki trips and one last summer hurrah to the archipelago with our dearest friends.  You were the occasion of friendly inquiries from other mazda owners, who had nothing but nostalgic good things to say about your kind.
Consider this a well-earned retirement.
Merci.  Adieu.

Falling, falling

Fall is here again, or the beginnings of it.  I resisted by wearing a summer dress and flip flops.  Here's a fist at you, autumnal gloom.  I'm not ready for you yet!

On another note, as I glanced back at the entries of this year (yes, too few, I know), I noted the phases that have brought me to the red dot that now marks my location on the map of life, "you are here." Did you see the trajectory, too?  It started last fall with an identity breakdown, a reality check, and a new operating system that now contains the file marked "listen to yourself."  This new system is also missing the "performance control" button that I used to default to.  I still wonder where it is occasionally, but have realized that I'm doing quite well without it.  I'm falling apart, and it's wonderful (I have become fast friends with a state of being known as "vague discomfort due to work in progress.")

And on a further note, I had some dreams come true:
my friends Crystal and Stephanie visited
    We toured the Archipelago, had great talks and chilled at a cabin on the sea
I went to a new place: Denmark
     I fell in love with Copenhagen and the smiling Danes
I'm learning to not be afraid of mistakes
    I've made so many at my sales job that by now I don't fear them, but expect them

My list of dreams has plenty of unfulfilled ones loitering around.  I'm not sure they will come true, but I just wanted to take a moment to acknowledge that dreams do come true!  It has been somewhat of a dark season of life for many reasons, but in the midst of everything, there are flowers of thankfulness blooming in the garden of my heart.  And to face all that is yet to come, I hope the little sprouts of boldness will grow stronger.