Love will come, set me free

Happy new year everyone. Only a few days ago, I miswrote in an email, wishing someone all the best for the year 2022. Looking back on the past few years, 2020 and 2021, it almost feels like we were just living them. I often walk past a cafe I spent many hours in the winter and spring of 2022 writing my bachelor’s thesis and drinking endless amounts of black coffee and sparkling water. The memories of that time are strong and vivid, yet so much life has happened since then. Got the thesis done, moved homes, travelled to some amazing places, started my Master’s and build Supper Tale with my partner. Big things like that, but going to the grocery store, taking care of laundry, writing essays, reading books, practicing pilates, drinking my coffee in the morning. Being grumpy and irritated and difficult sometimes, feeling massive amounts of love and joy, too. So much life happens all the time, and we are in 2024 now.

It often takes some time for that change in calendars to really sink in. At the end of the day years are just numbers. Not much has necessarily changed. Still we are able to make choices, and choices help us make a change where it feels necessary. Whether it’s the New Year or unspecified Tuesday, it doesn’t have to matter. We can always make our choices matter.

I love talking about the weather. It's a passive love, rather than something I actively devote my affection to. Still, I often find myself wondering about the changes in temperature and other weather-related matters. Helsinki has had nearly -20 degrees celsius for many days in a row and we’ve had lots of snowfall. The city and its people sit still and quiet, in hibernation under a heavy snow blanket. If you happen to see someone on the streets, they are most likely hurried somewhere and covered in long overcoats, hats and mittens. Roads for pedestrians and cars are levelled together, snow making all relief unnoticeable.

I had certain plans and expectations for the first week of January, as one often does. My plans changed as I got called to work for some extra shifts, and therefore had less time for myself than I had anticipated. My ever-hectic mindset and the feeling of being needed in many places at once, which I wanted to leave behind to 2023, stayed with me uninvited.

Yesterday was the first day I could “get everything together”. I let myself have a slow morning, as I’ve done most days during the holiday season and had a lie in. Once I got up, I put the sheets to wash and made myself a coffee. One of the things I want to focus on this year is limiting my daily caffeine intake, and I intend to prioritise that next week.

Something I have implemented to my routine this week, even if I’m still not ticking all the things off my wellbeing tasks, is committing to morning pages. Morning pages are a simple, yet impactful method from Julia Cameron's book The Artist's Way. I listened to an abridged audio book version, while waiting for my full copy to arrive in the post. Committing to write morning pages helps bring awareness and clarity by clearing the mind of cluttered thoughts. To write morning pages, you need three pages (I use A4 printing ones) and then you write everything and anything for both sides of the papers. You can change the subject at any moment or not have a subject at all. The sentences do not have to make any sense. The idea is to let your mind wander on the paper, and then leave it at that. No need to read what you’ve written, simply go on with your day.

I want to be honest. This sounds easier than it really is. First day I wrote one page, on the second day I managed two, and on the third day I only just got to the end of the first side of page one. It’s not by any means perfect, but that’s not the point. The point is to put that pen to paper.

I’m someone who easily tends to think they have to do something perfectly to do it at all. This limiting belief makes it difficult for me to commit to certain practices, as my mindset tries to convince me not to do something I supposedly won’t be able to finish perfectly. Hah! To that train of thought I’m saying no thank you and good riddance. To put these goodbyes on action I commit myself to write both sides of three pages everyday. If I don’t fully succeed, I still do it and try again tomorrow.

Another thing I want to take with me from 2023 to 2024, is our weekly dinners with Eyal’s family. We get together at someone’s home on Friday evenings, share a meal one of us prepared or sometimes everyone contributes by bringing something to the table. We spend time together and tell each other what we’ve been up to during the week we’ve just had.

I often make challah on Fridays. This first January weekend I’m away in Naantali, spending much needed quality time with a group of my closest girlfriends. This is the first time one of us brings a baby to a girls weekend away, and it feels both natural and special at the same time. We are at the heart of winter which means a lot of time indoors. Keeping warm, I put some Leevi and the Leavings on the speakers and I make challah bread on a Thursday.

I will take the bread with me for the weekend to share with the girls, and leave some for Eyal too. We use the bread to make French toast on Saturday morning in Naantali, accompanied by rice porridge and abundant toppings.

I got positive feedback from my latest Substack, where I wrote more from my point of view and shared my banana bread recipe. Feeling encouraged and inspired from the impact my writing made before, I wanted to start this year’s newsletter with more personal storytelling. Let me know if you’re interested in the recipe.

I wish all the best for you in this new year. I have a good feeling about this one. I feel optimistic for what this year is able to reveal, but I also feel terrified and lost. What I hope for 2024 is for everyone to find comfort in the unknown, and to make an effort when required. We are here to make an effort after all.

With love,

Veera

*The title is from a song called Ain’t No Reason by Brett Dennen, which I’ve once again been listening on repeat.