Only 13 days until the sun will turn. I wait for that day more than for Christmas. Here in Norway the winter is called mørketida, which means “the dark time”. And I came to realize that it is not the cold which is the most difficult in winter (now it is not cold at all), but the darkness. I grew up in Ukraine with cold winters – and I never complained about winters. But I grew up with the longer light day. And here what keeps me down is the light day from 9am till 3am. If we can call it light. Some days feel just light nights, or early evenings. November this year has been amazingly full of light. Little rain, a lot of sunshine. And I kept through thinking: “um, this is not so bad, I got used to Norway”. But December hit me with the short dark days and long darker nights, and I feel like a half of myself.
And this is what I like the least. Not the biting cold wind, or icy streets, or late sunrises, or no sunrises. But this version of myself. I feel reduced to 50%, like I am on the season sale already 🙂 I love that bubbly Marina that I know from summer. The one that is possible in sunnier place even in December. But this one, tired, sick, complaining – this version of myself I don’t like. But let us not stop here. Here I have stopped so many times in my life. I have pitched a tent in this place and lived there for a long period. Until I learnt: this doesn’t work. This doesn’t help. And if I don’t want to go down that road again, I have to find something that helps.
After I have caught an explorer excitement about the city where I live here, I was inspired to share the collections of things that catch my attention. Like my collection of backyards, or balconies, or details of Oslo. In my first years in this city I was sharing my collections of doors, old cars and lights of Oslo on Facebook. Then when Instagram came, and I have seen shots of the beautiful doors, I was again running around the city looking for the pretty doors and facades. My friend even mentioned that I should post more photos of myself than of doors (but I disagree :)).
I also want to introduce the idea of micro exploring. That concept came to my mind yesterday, but I would not be surprised if it already exists (as it often happens with some ideas occurring to me :)). A quick search of blogs here on WordPress led to the Ted talk by Alastair Humphreys who introduces the notion of micro adventure. A further research is to be done. But here I am not to claim the originality of the idea, but to speak my heart about it. I feel that this is what the world needs right now. Or maybe, this is what I need right now :)) A shift of focus. The discovery of beauty in my immediate surroundings.
I am a lover of colors and think that the life is too short to be less than colorful. When asked about my favorite color I used to answer: the rainbow (before I knew the symbolism of rainbow :)). I love how multiple colors can play together and I find nature to be a perfect example of it. We people got a bit too serious with rules, as well for color combinations, and prefer to wear black if we want to look stylish. I respect stylish people – but really inspired I get by individuals who are not afraid of showing their true color and mixing it up. Like Frida Kahlo. Like those fashion bloggers who make you smile with their sprinkle alert.
If cities were people, what kind of person your city would be? I have lived in several cities around Europe and they were sassy, cosmopolite, rich in culture and history. Staying in Oslo after that was like staying with a relative in a village. Predictable, familiar, but, gosh, somehow boring and uninspiring. It took me several years to hack the code of Oslo. Its charm does not serve itself as a flirty social butterfly at a cocktail party. Instead it is to be explored and discovered, and if you have the appreciation for detail, you will be rewarded in your search for beauty.
I happen to live in the country that has given to this world the great explorers like Roald Amundsen, Fridtjof Nansen, the Vikings (who sailed all the way to North America). These guys have set kind of high standard for what exploring means, and, honestly, sometimes that bothers me. Do you also have this idea of exploring the faraway shores, thick jungles and mountain tops that are untouched by the foot of a man? Then I check the Instagram feeds of travel bloggers with their perfect sets in places that I don’t know how to pronounce, the flowing dresses, hats and hipster backpacks all there. I look at them, I look at me – and in my eyes you can see a reflection of an abyss that seems impossible to jump over.
But where is this distance? It’s only in my head, and no one is really stopping me. And I don’t even need to buy tickets to the exotic destinations, pack my suitcase with mosquito sprays and first aid kits, and risk my life hanging from the cliff with my camera in order to call myself an explorer. My mind is like a kid, it needs a picture attached to the word. So these are the pictures I have attached to the word “explore”. But recently I came to realize that exploring is the spirit, not the destination, or a dangerous activity or a cool shot on Instagram. It is more like an attitude, a mind mode that you can tap into any time and any place.
Is anyone else here in the same trouble? It looks like the summer has brought, with its warm breeze, longer days and vibrant greenery, a break on writing. As I go around in my summer businesses, drifting further from blogging, there is also a rising feeling of guilt about not keeping up with this project. And the longer I feel it, the more difficult it gets to sit down and write something.
When you meditate and try to keep your mind still, you can get frustrated by the thoughts coming and stealing your attention. But the masters say, that the real work is done not in emptying your mind but in that moment of becoming conscious of your thoughts coming and going.
I’ve been feeling bad about falling out of blogging for almost two weeks. I feel like I can’t live up to my simple resolution of 2 posts a week. And the longer I am not writing, the more difficult it is to get on track (though I keep on blogging on my Russian blog, I guess I have developed a better habit there).
I wish that Norwegian spring were more predictable, but it’s not. Before the end of March it is early to speak of the spring altogether – March is a winter month here, with a sudden snow and a biting freezing wind. Thanks to Instagram we have a daily reminder how gorgeous spring can be: there are first crocuses in Germany, and the blossoming trees in Paris and Vienna. While I decided to go check the forest for the first tiny sprouts last week – only to find there the rests of snow. Complaining is my old friend, but it doesn’t help me here, so I learn to reinvent myself and look for the ways to change my attitude. This year I learn not to wait for the spring, but to create it. Here are my tiny tricks so far.