Tag Archives: Journey

R & R Part I: The Nostalgic Journey

August 20, 2016 Tiny 66 Comments

The close to 26 hour travel from Florida Gulf Coast to my R & R destination in Finland was remarkably comfortable. Much thanks to my habit of paying practically everything on one airline card. Quite enjoyable indeed from the colorful, Africa-inspired sendoff in Philly to the delicious Money Monster accompanied dining onboard. Points still work.

After actually sleeping quite a bit over the Atlantic, and everything running on time in London, I arrived in Finland surprisingly intact. For someone who gets to see family ‘back home’ only about once a year these trips are always nostalgic. Many kinds of pictures from the past suddenly surface. Me as a toddler moving into our new home with mom, dad and baby sister. A home built by our dad. A home that still stands tall, here pictured on a moonlit night the week before last.

Me in elementary school. And the memory of laying down on this very school yard bleeding profusely after being hit right on the nose with a baseball bat by a fellow student in the PE class. A ring of worried people bending over me when I wake up. This eight year old’s Miss Universe dreams brutally smashed. But at least she got a few days off school while her eyes couldn’t see anything but the humongous nose.

Me in high school, and then as an undergraduate and graduate student in the big city of Tampere about 45 miles away from home. That was a wild time. Initially. But then we all mature and somehow life finds its intended path. I pass familiar places, but they are not the same. Like this old Orthodox Church next to my university. It used to reach for the blue skies all alone, but now has a backdrop of a brand new hotel tower. Progress.

When I pass my high school, I notice the Lutheran Church completed while I was a junior. Very modern architecture at the time, and in my eyes it still holds lots of appeal. I find comfort in the fact that at least a few places look like I remember them.

On the 3.5-hour journey from the capital to my childhood home, more familiar places fly by the window. Now illuminated by the late afternoon sun. And my early years come back to me with a profound sense of gratitude.

And soon I was there. At the lake that belongs to my childhood more than anything. And one that still symbolizes peace and tranquility in my life.

That first night I couldn’t resist going out to the backyard after the late dinner. I was marveling at the fact that dusk arrived only around 10 p.m. And the fact that my dear dad still kept a thriving garden.

That moonlit night I felt the peace of this wonderful spot on earth. And I knew those precious, long-awaited moments with family had arrived.

The toddler, teenager and adult merged into a surprisingly balanced whole and let out a long exhale into the cool night air.

Quotes, Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday: And You?

Image September 24, 2014 Tiny 17 Comments

Just Life, Poems

Between the Sunsets

June 13, 2013 Tiny 4 Comments

Our journey

on the winding trails of life

progresses in small installments

between the sunsets

when dreams dance on the waves

disappointments

transform into rip currents

and hope rides onto the shore

to sustain us

between the sunsets.

Just Life

Somewhere in the World at 8 a.m.

April 29, 2013 Tiny 6 Comments

waiting in the lounge A

I said it to her repeatedly: It’s morning already, my dear, not 2 a.m. She really didn’t listen. She was all set to hug the pillows, but instead she was sitting somewhat upright in an airport lounge, absent-mindedly observing the world go by. People of all colors, all denominations and from all corners of the world crossing paths briefly. The espresso machine was humming non-stop, singing its global song: wake up, it’s morning already.

That was of course true for some people, but I understood that for her it was still night, the Hour of the Wolf was slowly approaching. And yet for others, it was already late afternoon or even dinner time. That might have explained the gradual decrease in the liquid levels of the fine wine bottles on the drink counter, even when the clock on the wall showed 8 in the morning. Serve yourself – whatever your internal clock calls for. Her clock didn’t call for anything but sleep. But I was not in the position to serve her that, so I served her espresso and water. Over and over again.

A small minority of people clearly had slept in a bed that night, whether their own or someone else’s. Shower fresh and clear-eyed they rushed in and sat on the office chairs in front of the computer screens or plugged in their own gadgets in the little work cubicles. Doing some last-minute preps before meetings in another city while complementing their hasty breakfast with new selections. That seemed practical for the short-haulers, who were mostly, but not entirely, men.

For the many long-haulers like her, it was good that the lounge had some facilities. This particular one was fresh and boasted modern sleek designs. She was not really able to appreciate the quite spectacular avant-gardisim, but I noticed she woke up a little bit after splashing cold water on her face. It’s morning already, I repeated, you can have more coffee.

She had many more hours to kill and I noticed she was secretly dreaming of reclining lounge chairs, something like the La-Z-Boy design. She dozed off several times in the modern but uncomfortable leather chair. Her eyes shut and her head fell forward. Then she startled and woke up again a little. Repeat.

Every time she woke up, her neighbors had changed. Now a young couple spoke Hindi in the row behind her, a middle-aged man paced back and forth in front of her and had an argument in French on his cell phone, and yet another couple to her left spoke quietly in Arabic. Someone to her right snored loudly. She could hear an assortment of languages around her, some familiar some not. The world was adequately represented. And right there it appeared surprisingly peaceful. She could doze off once more. And I let her, somewhere in the world, at 8 a.m.