At
this time of year I habitually write an annual report. I have just
discovered, to my amazement, that I didn’t last year, and when I
contemplate the reason it’s probably exactly why I am hesitant
about doing it now. While most people I know, and millions that I
don’t know, are experiencing the worst time imaginable, my year has
been exciting and enjoyable.
True,
there were two losses in the family, one profoundly tragic, the other
perhaps less so, while it hit me more than I had expected. When I
walked off three years ago I thought the hurt was so huge that I
would never care whether my partner of almost forty years was dead or
alive. Yet when he passed away this past autumn, it was as if the
three years apart had been erased, and grief was acute. In a weird
way it felt good since it was a closure much needed, as it turns out.
To my surprise, I miss him terribly and only remember the good things
from our years together. So, paradoxically, even a loss can add depth
and meaning to your life.
Apart
from that, and apart from some worrying health issues in the family,
my life has not been affected by the global disasters. I eventually
got covid last month, but thanks to three vaccine jabs, I had it
mildly and was fully recovered after a week. Sweden has never had a
full lockdown, and even during the tightest restrictions I was able
to meet my grandchildren outdoors. This autumn we went to concerts,
theatre and movies, met for coffee and meals – almost as normal.
(There will never be the former normal again of course). I am blessed
with grandchildren who want to spend some time with their old granny.
I don’t think they do it out of duty. Maybe they find me
interesting in some way. And not to forget – a granddaughter got
married last September!
This
year saw some great accomplishments, some planned, others unexpected.
I took a three-day training to become a certified walking guide, and
since then I have been leading walks both in my own neighbourhood and
further away. I enjoy it a lot – hopefully my co-walkers do too. I
made some new friends that way.
I have also continued my urban walks
based on children’s books. I know these have been appreciated.
From
my post-retirement wish list, I started learning Welsh. I had a
choice between Welsh, Japanese and Hebrew, and I was perhaps a bit
reluctant to choose a language with totally unfamiliar script, but
Welsh proved challenging enough. I am learning for fun, as a brain
exercise so I have no aspiration of ever getting fluent (“Bydda i
erioed yn rhugl”). I do half an hour every day, sometimes more. I
have learned just over a thousand words since I started last January.
I don’t know (it has been such a long time since I learned a
foreign language) how it compares to an average pace of learning, but
I can construct simple phrases and even write brief journal entries.
I speak Welsh to myself whenever there is an opportunity, like “Dw
i’n mynd i gwneud coffi nawr”. I have joined a Facebook group of
Welsh learners, for support and for fun.
An
unexpected new activity has been ikebana, Japanese flower
arrangement. I have always been fascinated, but never considered
pursuing it; a friend invited me to a digital meeting of their
Ikebana International chapter, I contacted my local chapter, they
offered me a free trial class, and I was hooked. I had claimed
repeatedly that I hate cut flowers because I feel upset when they
wither, but ikebana is by definition an ephemeral art form where
flowers are supposed to die so it turned out I could accept it. I
have now received the first certificate and am halfway through the
second one. A certificate is like a completed term in college, with a certain number of assignments to submit, and
there are ten levels so I have yet far to go. I like clear goals, but
the important thing is the joy of creation, as well as the sense of
getting better. When I look at pictures of my first arrangements,
they are pathetic, and I was so proud of them back then.
My
miniature-making has also moved on to new heights. My business is
going well with its premises. Since I am not dependent on it for a
living, I feel satisfaction from the simple fact that people like my
stuff and even make special orders. I now feel confident to make
things I never dreamed of making a few years ago so when asked
whether I can make this or that, I say: I have never made it before,
but I can try. I don’t like mass-producing things (although I have
occasionally made fifty tiny pumpkins on request), but rather
inventing new things. I am a recycler and like using rubbish for my
projects. I have the privilege of belonging to a hugely selective
miniature club where I am learning a lot. I have participated in my
first miniature show. I am building up a reputation. Luckily, so much
networking can be done online, even though there is nothing like live
events.
Book-binding
hasn’t been as prominent this year, but I have tried some new
techniques there as well.
I
continue with balcony gardening (although not right now when it’s
minus fifteen), enjoying the colours of my flowers and the taste of
my veggies. I haven’t done as much as I could have, but I have made
several improvements.
In my communal garden, I enjoyed tulips and
daffodils I had planted the year before; I harvested blackcurrants
that I had planted the year before, and our maintenance team have, on
my request, planted lilacs, magnolias and rhododendron we will enjoy
next year.
I
haven’t achieved my walking goal of 1,500 km, being short by 300.
Maybe I set the goal too high, or maybe I was lazy. But how could I
have been lazy when I walked almost 80 km on Camino de Santiago? A
dream come true, after three postponements due to well-known reasons.
Moreover, I went on two more walking holidays within Sweden, one of
which my first mountain hike. Sweden is great for walking, and there
is so much to explore!
With
other exercise, my Pilates gym was closed for a while, but this
autumn classes resumed, which was great. Since the gym is in town I
frequently combined it with meeting a friend for lunch. I have also
tried climbing and loved it. I will certainly do it again.
In
spring, I took two online classes at Seniors’ University (aka
University of Third Age), one in astronomy, the other on deserts. The
latter proved more interesting. I realised I had been to half of
world’s famous deserts, but I had no idea why they were where they
were. Now I know. Always fun to learn something new.
My
reading goal this year was 30 books, and my challenge was reading
recent Swedish novels that I had neglected over the last ten years. I
have read 35. Some were great reading experience, and many critically
acclaimed and award-winning books were awful. At least I am now
better informed about what is going on in Swedish literature.
I
have enjoyed a lot of music this year. While concert halls were still
closed I listened to free streamed and recorded concerts, but this
autumn I went to a live concert almost every week. I have also been to
opera, ballet and musical. Every morning and every evening I listen
to Spotify. I like its feature Weekly Discovery. The algorithm
alternates my favourites with its own suggestions which are indeed
discoveries I probably wouldn’t have made myself. (By the way,
“concerts” for me is exclusively classic music). Spotify tells me
that my most listened-to artist this year was Alison Balsom, which
was unexpected. My top piece, for second year running, is “Farewell
to Stromness” since it is my bedtime music.
I
have become quite fond of TV series – a genre I used to despise,
which is of course a snobbish prejudice. My favourite this year was
“The Good Place”. Occasionally I binge-watch, but mostly I watch
one episode a day, looking forward to the pleasure the day after.
I
still enjoy cooking for myself and trying new recipes. A Cambridge
friend and I have had several cook-along days when we choose a
cuisine and exchange our experience, in words and pictures, through
WhatsApp. We have done Greek, Basque, Swedish, Sicilian, and more.
When you cannot meet live, digital sessions are almost as good.
I
never thought I would bake so much, or bake at all, but here I am,
baking buns, cakes and biscuits and even bread, just for myself.
Last
but not least, my feline masters are getting more and more
benevolent. One day they will sit on my lap.
Unlike
most previous years, I have no publications nor any other academic
accomplishments. There may have been some, but I have totally ignored
them. I am still getting tons of invitations to give a conference
paper, to contribute to a volume, to examine a thesis or review a
book proposal, to which I reply: “You have received my
auto-response, and I can confirm that…” The only thing that
reminds me of my academic past is regular royalties.
I
have been consistent in my anti-consumerism, and apart from craft
supplies and a couple of essential kitchen utensils I honestly
haven’t bought anything this year. I haven’t bought a single item
of clothing, except a black skirt I needed for a funeral, and I got
it from a second-hand shop. The only book I bought was a guidebook
for the mountain area where I went hiking. My first-generation iPad
from 2011 still serves me well.
This
year marked forty years since I left Russia. My son and I celebrated
appropriately, agreeing that it was the right thing to do. I have
never regretted it.
As I have stated before, perception of time is different when you get old. I feel no stress, no pressing goals; every day is long and full of meaning. The pace is slow, and if at the end of the day I state that I haven't done anything useful, there is no need to be upset. I don't believe in happiness, but this is peace that you could not possibly imagine when you were young.
At
this point we typically make plans for the coming year. I can hardly
imagine it being better still, but I do have things to look forward
to. To begin with, I will be three-score and ten, and I intend to
celebrate in style. I hope to walk another bit of the Camino. There
may be another interesting travel experience. I have signed up for
more craft shows. There are concert and theatre tickets waiting. Of
course none of this may happen at all, but I have learned to take one
day at a time and be grateful for every day I am alive and able to
enjoy it. I am profoundly grateful for the joys of 2021.
