This week I am posting on location in a rough stream of consciousness. I have decided to continue with my evening, a well deserved date night with my beloved partner, and share some thoughts about this moment.
Although most of my Friday nights tend to grow more similar as the months go by, I am beginning to crave moments of spontaneity. In between the meals and beers, I am finally starting to feel humbled my surroundings. To be fair, lately, my environment has not been the most comforting aspect of my life. And this evening I can finally say with confidence my home soothes me.
August is my favorite month in Helsinki. I feel at ease with the climate, daylight hours, and reasonable work schedule of the people. Things feel mellow, and the extremes of the midnight sun and sunless winter are just passing thoughts.
Just like the ominous conversations I share with my husband about season finales for Game of Thrones, I have similar feelings towards the winter ahead. Although in this moment, next to the sea and a beer in hand, I feel grateful to be alive and breathing the Baltic air.
Until next week
xx – nasty trash
The mail man just came by with what sounded like a large deposit in our mail slot. Much to my surprise, amongst old bills and magazines, I received a letter from a dear friend in Atlanta. I must confess to those whom I write regularly I have been a horrible pen pal this summer, and hardly licked a stamp in months. But this brings up a good theme I want to discuss this week… home.
We have our home in our minds, home in our memories, and home on paper, usually where the mail is delivered. I have considered many different theories of what home is supposed to be or what it could be. My current understanding is that comes in moments. Moments when you feel something hygge, whether that is in your body, your house, or a familiar place.
I will admit the current address I reside used to terrify me. It is a long Finnish word with lots of vowels and every time I write a letter I question if it is spelled correctly. Regardless of inevitable spelling errors, it is where you can find me most of the time. Stretching out on my yoga mat, cooking in the kitchen, writing to dear friends on paper and the web, and sleeping every night next to the love of my life.
Home can be a lot of things, or it can be just one thing. Like the diversity in personalities across the millions of us in the world, our individual perception is just as unique. Pictures and quotes help to express these nostalgic emotions, but at the end of the day, it is your special place and experience.
xx – nasty trash