The Additional 30

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What would you do if you were given thirty to sixty minutes extra to your day? First of all, would you need them? And second, how would you spend those minutes?

On Monday, like a fairy godmother, I gifted myself those extra minutes.

You see, after a few days of thinking, I decided to take a break from social media. Facebook but especially Instagram, to be specific.

For a few years now, I’ve lived my life consuming a minimal amount of time on social media and without sitting down to catch up on the daily news. Of course, in the society we live in today it’s almost impossible to live without some news coming in one’s attention or altogether without any information related to social media, but in my opinion, I’ve done pretty well.

However, when I started writing this blog in July last year, I decided to create an Instagram account to go with it. After all, many bloggers use Instagram as an additional media to share more details about their lives through photos and short captions, and it seemed to be a part of the whole thing.

Also, many writers are active on Instagram, sharing their writing related tips and experiences and in that way creating a community for writers, something I had been longing for. As I was on my own with the hushed mission to write my very first real novel, Instagram seemed like the perfect place to share and care about writing without having to keep the first draft as a complete secret.

Help, Tips and Inspiration

Being a writer on Instagram has many positive aspects. The community of writers on this platform is huge and many of the writers share actively their writing journey, describing the ups and downs, the achievements and the setbacks. In this way, I got support and perspective to the whole writing process. There is also a number of writing experts who are there to help you, answer your writing-related questions and cheer you on – for free!

In addition to this, Instagram has worked as a place for inspiration and especially motivation to keep on writing every day. It has also been a place where I’ve found many tips for fictional books, books about writing and helpful Youtube and Instagram accounts to follow.

In addition to that, I’ve used Instagram to get ideas for different meals and ways to do self-care. The platform really is great. I spent a good deal of time posting my own photos, writing captions, liking and commenting the photos of other users – and getting that warm and cozy feeling of a community.

But still, something with Instagram made me doubt if my efforts there were worth my time, thoughts and energy.

Time, Action, Trouble

When it comes to following people on social media, I’m quite picky. Especially on Instagram, I didn’t want to follow anyone whose content didn’t feel natural or similar to my own style and preferences. Therefore, I only followed approximately 90 different people on Instagram.

Although this isn’t that much (as many tend to follow up to 500 people), for me the feed very often felt like an information overload. There was so much to see, so much to reflect upon and maybe comment upon that after my morning scroll through Instagram, my brain felt fuzzy. And this was right before I was supposed to dive into writing a new blog post or continue writing Yellow Tails.

Also the amount of inspirational and motivations quotes, writing tips, book recommendations and thought-provoking questions became too much. Almost daily I took several screenshots of things I wanted to check up on later but that I always forgot until I every few days scrolled through my photos and wondered what all the screenshots were about. There was too much information, too many ideas that eventually led to more passive consuming rather than active creating of new thoughts and ideas. And stress because when was I supposed to find the time to go through all those books to read and videos to watch and skills to learn?

Instagram counts the minutes you spend on the app and tells you how much time on average you spend on scrolling, liking and commenting photos. For me, that number was somewhere between 30 and 60 minutes every day. On days when I published something the minutes ticked away quickly and especially after the New Year when I decided to put some effort into my Instagram Stories, I really started to spend time on the platform.

However, I saw few if any returns for the additional time I invested on spending on Instagram. Only a few more clicks to the blog, only one-tenth of my followers actually saw those Stories and I got no more followers, no matter how I tweaked and turned the content.

In addition to this, many of the principles behind creating a successful Instagram account don’t fall into my personal and beliefs which made it hard for me to get motivated to ”do the right things to get more successful”.

It felt as if I was wasting my time when I could have invested those minutes into doing something off-screen or learning new things. And this made me think if it was time to quit Instagram.

Peaceful and Productive

With these gut feelings and thoughts (what did I give to the platform – and what did I receive?), I decided to dig a little deeper into the social media detox and what the talk around it was about. I watched two videos, this and this, and read this post by Seth Godin. And in a nutshell, this is what I ended up with:

Social media is one form of entertainment but the platforms are made as addictive as possible, making them into some sort of personal slot machines you carry with you in your back pocket or your bag. The platforms invite you to check them every now and then, as often as possible, which leads to your attention becoming fragmented. And this attention fragmenting aspect of social media can permanently reduce your capacity to concentrate.

These facts sounded convincing to me. My attention span is one of the most important things to me as a writer and I certainly didn’t want to have it fragmented. And I wasn’t too excited about the thought of personal slot machines, either.

However, one of the reasons I got on Instagram as a writer (and a future author) was to create a platform through which I could market my book and share my journey. And I thought this: if I quit Instagram, will it have a negative effect on my future success? If I quit, will anyone find my book? After all, word of mouth is one of the most effective ways for a book to find its readers.

After a few days of thinking, I would like to answer my own question:

1) If I put my time and attention to post things on Instagram instead of investing that time in working on my book, I won’t have a book to talk about, and

2) I already have this blog which is month after month showing me that you people are interested in what I talk about (hi every 58 of you!) so why not invest more time on writing these entries instead of putting my energy in writing short captions few seem to read and react to anyway?

In other words: if you chase two rabbits at the same time, you’ll probably end up with nothing.

So, my worries of not having a Instagram account when I become an author are completely irrational and unnecessary. At the moment, at least.

Instead of spending time on these energy and time-consuming platforms, I can focus on doing things that I like and love (and get deeper into something called deep work which I hope to be able to get back into later on) and let the other things follow. Living without tiny but constant interruptions can help me be more productive and more peaceful. I have fewer things to divide my focus between, to check, to keep up with.

The additional 30 to 60 minutes per day I gain to my day when I’m not on Instagram or Facebook can be invested into learning new things, writing, learning to meditate… anything I can think of!

I mean, those minutes add up to 3,5–7 hours a week and 14–28 hours a month – that’s a good deal of time. It’s a huge amount of time. And I just gave those minutes, those hours to myself, like a true fairy godmother.

What would you do with those additional hours in your week or month?

Still Life Sunday: The Stoic of the Crowd

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23 The Stoic of the Crowd

The town feels all too quiet as it rests under the newly fallen snow. The cars drive by slowly, stopping at almost every intersect to look out for other vehicles and people who walk quickly through the streets, their shoulders drawn up to keep the warmth in and the freezing, unpleasant wind out. No one wants to stay outside in the cold air more than they need to. Instead, they all seek safety and warmth inside their box apartments, closing the doors behind them and drawing the blinds in front of the windows. No one wants to be reminded of the cold, the darkness and the ice that covers the sidewalks.

To escape the quiet, the slow-moving cars and the people who avoid looking anyone in the eye (it’s best to keep the eyes down on the ground and look out for icy spots), my steps take me to the local library. I walk through the lobby, past the shelves filled with books aimed for children and young adults and turn to the right, and take the stairs up to the adult book section.

I can see the wind making the snow fly in swirls outside the window. I shiver and start to wander around aimlessly, simply browsing the shelves with my eyes.

The new books. They stand proudly on a table as if declaring their excellence, that they exceeded everyone’s expectations and now take their rightful place on that surface with the note ‘Newly arrived books’.

I wonder if these books got rejected several times before getting published or if the process was painless and quick, the first publishing house declaring they wanted to publish the book. The books stand here now, proud and convinced that they were meant to be there in the first place. But how long was the journey before they were printed, published and brought to the library?

I move away from these proud books and take a turn to the philosophy section instead. The classics, the Plato, the Aristotle, even a book of Nietzsche’s thoughts catches my eye. Then the modern philosophers, most of them unknown to me.

This section seems all too quiet, too pondering, all too filled with thoughts that would pick my brain if I’d let them do it. None of the books seem to talk, only ponder about the world and the meaning, slightly humming to themselves. It makes me nervous so I continue my wandering. I walk past the religious books, seeing the row of Bibles waiting for curious hands to pull them from the shelf and browse the pages, the scriptures. How many times a year is a Bible borrowed from a library, I wonder.

The travel books are lined up on several shelves, divided into different countries in different parts of the world. They all look similar, giving the impression that all countries are more or less the same. And they are, too: they all battle the effects of the economy, of the climate change and try to make life as enjoyable as possible for everyone living in the country. They all have people who are rich and who are poor, they have cats and dogs, fruits and vegetables, good and evil, right and wrong.

But still, all the countries have been given their own book that tells them why they are unique, why they matter.

I stop at an old book with a brown, blank cover. The book is too big to fit in an ordinary shelf and has therefore been placed outside it, on a single shelf that travels along the side of the wall. The brown, blank cover catches my attention. It doesn’t try to sell me anything or tell me any stories that I could regard as truths – instead, it invites me to create my own, subjective thoughts.

It’s a book filled with maps, drawn by hand ages ago. Filled with exquisite details, drawings and texts, the pages give an impression of the passing of time, thoughts and ideas. It holds on to my focus, not giving me all the answers right away but instead, it invites me to look, to search for the smallest details and then, finally, letting me go and agree on turning the next page.

The book is different from all the other books in this library. It’s even quieter than the philosophy books and is filled with mysteries like the religious works. But this book I like.

And although it has certainly earned its rightful place on this shelf when it comes to the delicate craft and age of the book, the brown covers give the impression of quiet serenity, peace, unlike the brand-new books on that other surface. This brown book of maps could be hidden somewhere behind all the other travel books and would give the same air of serenity as it does here.

And that makes it the greatest book in the library.

The Banana Peel and Other Observations

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The Unfortunate Notions From An Almost-Monthly Commute

1 One Angry Man

It’s Monday, 9.50 AM. I stand in the white snow waiting for the bus that will take me to another city further up North.

I hear a yell. It’s an angry, loud yell that turns into a furious, on-going rant. The person ranting is a middle-aged man with a hanging belly, built slowly during the years of heavy drinking. He’s mad at everyone and everything he sees and hears and most of all, he is angry at the world and the way the world has decided to organize itself.

I turn away and try to let his voice blend into the monotonous sounds of the traffic.

2 One Banana Peel

Fifteen minutes later, at 10.05 AM, I have taken my seat on the bus and begun my five-hour journey along the coast to a town I used to live in. Twenty-or-so minutes in, I notice a banana peel squeezed between the window and the seat in front of me. I’m amused and appalled at the same time. I wonder if it’s my duty to do something about the sad yellow thing that is categorized as bio waste: should I pick it up and take it to the trash can a few seats away from me? Or should I let it be but mention the peel to driver when I leave the bus?

Then I get curious and wonder why the banana peel is there in the first place. In my mind, I can see the chain of actions that led to this particular moment right here. How the previous passenger got hungry, ate the banana and then wondered where to put the peel. And how it clearly wasn’t a very rational thought to put it there, in-between the window and the seat where the driver wouldn’t find it and instead, it would stay there until it would begin to decompose and stink. Simply because a trash can wasn’t at the previous passenger’s arms reach.

I sigh. I sigh because of the stupidity of people, the laziness, the thoughtlessness of a human mind. And I think that it isn’t up to me to pick up the banana peel and throw it in the trash. I’m done pleasing other people, tired of being the doormat or the wallflower who does the chores no one else wants to do.

I consider myself lucky that the banana peel still seems to be pretty fresh and was  left there earlier today or yesterday.

3 One Visit to the Toilet

One-and-a-half hours into the ride and I need to pee. I stand up from my seat, walk down the stairs to the tiny toilet and do my business. After I’m finished I look around me. There’s no disinfectant to apply on my hands and neither does the water run so that I could wash my hands.

A few seconds of quick thinking and then: what else can a girl do than suck it up and be okay with germs for the rest of the ride?

I walk back up and return to my seat. During the next twenty minutes, I notice two others using the bathroom as well. As I observe them returning to their seats, I can’t help but think that I know for a fact that they haven’t washed their hands or applied any disinfectant. And because I know and I know that they know about this issue with germs, it’s as if we’re all in on the same, uncomfortable secret. Riding this bus isn’t the same anymore.

I wonder how long I should wait before finding the apple I have in my bag. I’m starting to get hungry. But the germs in my hands will then transfer to that apple which I will take a bite of and then the germs will get inside me.

Well. Maybe that’ll help me build up a better immune system?

Let’s hope for that.

4 Two Thoughts on Food

With 193 kilometers or 2 hours and 23 minutes left of my journey, I finally eat my apple, already forgetting about the germs. Funny, how priorities reorganize my mind. The sun is shining, finally, and the whiteness of the snow reflects the light back in a way that makes the world seem fresh.

In my own ears, the crunchy but juicy bites I take from my apple sound loud. But I know this to be an illusion: it is only I who thinks it’s loud but to the outside, it’s just the normal sound of chewing. A few years back, the fear of loud unboxing of sandwiches and noisy chewing kept me from eating while commuting but today I know better and don’t care anymore. Not after I realized that everyone else eats just as loudly as I do and I never hear them. So that’s that, and I reach to grab my sandwich packed in a noisy plastic wrapper.

I notice the man sitting in front of me. He’s eating a banana. It would be funny if he would try the same hiding trick as the previous passenger did and hide the peel in the same spot. Slowly but surely, a banana peel pile would have been created.

(By the way, try saying banana peel pile many times in a row. It’s fun and not at all difficult and might make you smile.)

5 Some End Notes

Suddenly, there’s only less than an hour left of the journey. Fifty minutes, to be precise. As we’ve moved more up the North, the clouds have taken over the sky and a grey heavy upper atmosphere promises snow for the night.

The good thing with this oh-so-long journey is that I’ve progressed in my reading. I listened to a few chapters of The Fountainhead, which was a pleasure, and continued to read The Secret History for an hour, digging myself deep into the crime-solving scenes of the second half of the book. I even listened to an episode of a podcast, which was an interview with Elizabeth Gilbert. Her bestseller Eat, Pray, Love never made a lasting impression on me, but after listening to that episode I was really impressed by her positive attitude to life and how she devotes herself to every book that she writes.

The journey is coming to its end. I still have 49 minutes for my thoughts, a few moments to look out from the window and let my mind wander. I notice the amount of snow: there’s more here than in the South which isn’t really surprising. I wonder if the people who live here actually like living here, the long dark winters and the short Summers with almost never-ending sunshine. I would like to know what these people do and what they believe in.

Because, although I lived in this city for a year I wouldn’t want to move back. The city is too isolated, the winter too dark and cold, and the place in all its hopefulness doesn’t offer enough alternatives for me.

In this city I feel caged in with only a limited amount of possibilities. And I don’t like that.

Luckily, I will be sitting in this bus again tomorrow, now riding it in the reversed direction. I’m already looking forward to getting home.

Still Life Sunday: Tête-à-tête

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22 Tête-à-tête

”May I open that one for you?”

The voice is friendly and the gesture accompanied by it conscious and balanced. He clearly knows what he is doing.

“I’ve got the bottle opener right here. But thanks, anyway.”

I turn him down, although that self-confidence of his feels appealing to me. He doesn’t seem to mind my refusal.

As the cork falls off and meets the table with a distinct ‘clink!’, I see him nod in an approval. Strong and independent woman, I think to myself and smile. How he analyzes my smile I don’t know but at least it makes him lean in closer – not to look at me but at the bottle.

It is a Japanese beer, blonde in color, its scent thick. Earlier that day, when I had walked to the liquor store without knowing what I was searching for, my eyes had focused on this specific beer for two reasons. First, the owl was cute and reminded me of those zen-like Japanese fish that swim in ponds in a peaceful manner. And second, it was the last bottle of its kind which made me think it had to be good.

“Is that your only drink for the night?”

The voice is still friendly and I can’t read any kind of judgment in-between the lines. Even his eyes are friendly, simply curious on my choice of drink for the evening. I nod.

“I prefer quality over quantity”, I say.

A short chuckle tells me he is amused by my comment which most likely means he has understood my point. Every few minutes I can hear someone opening yet another beer can, the distinct ‘tsskr-POP’, and the laughter spirited by mass-produced lager fills the room.

I take a sip of my Japanese beer. It’s a strong one but I like the taste. Without thinking about it, I offer the bottle to the stranger who has a friendly voice, conscious gestures and a curious look. He takes it, thanks for the offer and takes a sip.

“It’s good”, he says. “You have good taste in beer.”

I give him a short nod and a smile.

“This owl… it reminds me of Japanese koi. Do you know them?” He continues without waiting for an answer. “Did you know that they have an average lifespan of 40 years? The age can be determined by testing the Koi’s scales because they produce growth rings like trees.”

He’s good, I must admit that. He knows precisely the right words to say to get my attention, to keep me from turning my back to him and leaving in order to search for another quiet corner in the room.

So, I stay put. Take another sip, give him another nod and a smile.

That’s seems to be all he needs. And that’s all I need.

Searching for Balance

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Hello, reader! As of this Thursday, we are ten days into the new year. How are you doing? Are you working towards your goals energetically, feeling motivated and positive about what the new year will bring to you?

I hope you are.

I’ve had a slow start, myself. I do have my goals, yes, and my mini-goals to mark the path. I have a timetable, an estimated deadline for every mini-goal I’ve decided upon. But I have found it troublesome to get back to my routines again after the holidays.

Therefore, as thoughts about coming back to my routines and rediscovering that efficient, energetic work flow from Fall have been active in my mind, I thought it could be a good opportunity to shed some light upon my goals for this year. Or actually, my main goal: finding balance. Finding equanimity, to be precise.

Calming the Surface

How often do you pause to think about the meaning of life, of what it is we are supposed to do on this Earth with the years we are given by nature?

How do you find that question? Is it threatening, terrifying, even a little bit scary to think about why we people have evolved into the beings we are today?

Does the question feel irrelevant to you, a waste of your time? Or is it maybe one of the most important questions to ask in this life?

For me, thinking about the meaning behind our existence is something I get back to regularly. I believe it is essential to us humans to think about why we exist in the first place because, in the end, it will be our ’why’ for life. I’ve talked about a writer’s why before, but there’s even an individual’s ’why’ that plays a role throughout life.

So, as a human being, what is your ’why’? Why do you live, what is the purpose with your life?

***

I know, I know – we are getting into deep waters here. Let me pull us back to the surface.

Sometime in the Fall of 2018, the thought about my meaning of life came to me. For every person the meaning of life is different, and for me it’s about finding balance. It’s about finding the right ratio in everything, the right amount of this and that, the yin and the yang. It’s about finding balance to keep me in good health, keep me happy and satisfied and with a balanced mind.

For me, the meaning of life is about finding calm in the storm, evenness on the ever-changing surface. For me, the meaning of life is about finding balance, finding equanimity even in stressful situations.

The Fault in the Existing System

As a person, I tend to be an overachiever, someone who pushes herself to the limits to finish or accomplish something. My barrier for what I think is good enough is pretty high which means I tend to work more than many others do and still find myself ending up somewhere in the neighborhood of ’quite good’ instead of awesome.

As an effect, this over-achieving nature of mine tends to come in the way of my physical and mental well-being. And that is something I’d like to change.

I feel like I need to find a balance between the need for successfully accomplishing things and taking it easy. There is a fault in my system: I don’t relax as much as I’d like to, as much as I believe I need to. I don’t know if I’ve ever really learned how to do so after I started working during the Summers and studying during the rest of the year (long gone are the days of youth when the vacation began and one had three months of freedom in front of her).

Instead of relaxing, I tend to have a feeling that I should continuously be doing something, like working on a project or researching or writing, anything that gets me onward, helps me to develop.

However, we humans need to take it easy. I need to take it easy, find time for myself and my brain to relax. Sharpen the saw. Enjoy a good book just for fun and not because it will help me become a better writer. Do yoga for its meditative effect and not because it helps me build and develop my core muscles. Enjoy a cappuccino in a café because it gives me a cozy, warm feeling.

But I don’t do those things. Not enough. My mind doesn’t seem to want to give me a break and simply let me enjoy the doing-of-nothingness.

(Oh man, I keep hearing the overachiever here as well. How does one quiet that voice?)

To come back to my goal: as this thought about equanimity hit me, I knew it would be the key word for the year of 2019 and onward.

For me, from this year onward, finding balance is what I will be doing with my life.

But how to find equanimity? For me, it has to do with following things: 1) perspective, 2) trying different things, and 3) being selfish. I’ll provide an example for all three things.

Changing My Perspective

Coming back to regular writing and exercise routines last week was tough. After Christmas (which for us lasted for more than a week – in the end of that week, we were exhausted) and New Year, I was tired and far away from having recharged my creative batteries – or any batteries for that matter.

One day after New Year, we had decided upon going to the gym in the evening. It’s something me and my partner did regularly last year when we lived in another city, so it is a routine familiar from before. However, that same day I was asked to do a favour (a favor with only one right answer, something I’ve talked about before) which took a few hours of my day and left me tired in the late afternoon. When the time to start packing gym clothes came, I was in no way feeling motivated and energetic about going to the gym. Instead, going to the gym felt like something I had to do, like only another thing off my to-do list. It felt like an obligatory job, not like fun.

Instead, I thought about staying at home. I thought about enjoying a piece of chocolate, listening to a good book or a podcast, maybe doing a yoga sequence. I wanted to relax, take it easy. Balance out the work and exhaustion of the day with some deep breaths and calm. Not go to the gym where I had to push myself to accomplish something.

However, my partner said to me this: how about looking at the workout as a different way of relaxing? Why see it as an obligatory thing, something I have to do, when I could look at it as a way of sweating away the thoughts running in my head?

And like that, my perspective changed. With this thought in mind, I packed my things and went to the gym with my partner. And afterwards, having cycled for 30 minutes, I did feel relaxed. Now, my brain felt tired in a good way, and so did my body.

I realized that if I wish to find balance, I need to learn to change my perspective about some things. I don’t have to see a workout as work, per se, but as a way to relax: to sweat out the day, reward my body with endorphins and a great feeling.

Re-Routing the Routines

I believe in having routines. If you’ve followed my blog for a while, you know I do.

For the past six months, I’ve had a morning routine of the following: I get up, brush my teeth and then do a 10-minute yoga routine and a short muscle workout. After that, I shower, journal for two pages or so and eat breakfast. Then I drink coffee, scroll through Instagram and get to work.

This is how my mornings have been since last Summer, almost every morning from Monday to Friday.

However, for the past month or so, I’ve been feeling a bit stressed about my morning routine. It’s probably because my sleeping has been off and instead of waking up at 6 or 7 AM, like I usually do, I wake up at 9 AM. And as my best writing time is in the morning, this late sleeping routine of mine is affecting my writing and therefore, making me feel stressed.

The routine described above worked for me as long as my sleeping routines were the same. But now, as they’ve changed and I know getting them back to the regular routine will take some time, I’ve realized that my morning routine isn’t working for me anymore. It’s almost working against me by making me feel stressed.

Therefore, I’ve been playing with the idea of changing things around for a while. Maybe postponing the yoga routine to the late morning or writing the journal while I drink my morning coffee. I like all the routines I do in the morning – but maybe I could re-route them, change the order of things in order to make them work for me?

Because, as much as I talk about the importance of having routines, it doesn’t mean one has to stick to those same routines for the rest of ones life. A different every-day life needs a different set of routines which means that re-routing your routines may be in your favor, the best thing you will do to keep yourself free from stress and in that way, balanced.

Listening to Oneself

This third aspect of finding balance is a very personal one. By now, you probably know about my challenges with people-pleasing behavior and that I prefer living a conflict-free life – but it seems to come with the price of my own well-being.

Therefore, if I wish to find a way to balance this year, it means I need to be a bit more selfish than I usually am. It might sound wrong because selfishness comes with a negative emotional tag and tends to be viewed as a disadvantageous trait. But for me, being selfish means that I listen to myself more than I do to others. If someone wants my time and my energy, I ask myself if I want to give my time and energy to this person for this cause, instead of agreeing to what the other person ask without hesitating in order to avoid the conflict.

But being selfish doesn’t only include other people. The same goes for the different projects I do and the goals that I have. For instance, I need to ask myself how much time I’m willing to put into writing my thesis (do I need the best possible grade or can I settle for something more average?) or to my novels (how quickly do I want to have a publishing-ready novel?). I also need to ask myself how much time I want to have for myself, to relax and recharge.

Of course, this kind of egoistic thinking inevitably leads to conflicts, both inside and outside of my mind. But I believe it’s simply something I have to learn how to live with: if I wish to live a life that feels fulfilling to me, I need to be selfish and therefore, I need to deal with the conflicts my selfishness might lead to. I see it as a great practice to learn away from my people-pleasing behavior.

In Conclusion

Okay, so, I want to find balance in life. Most of all balance between things I have to do for others and things I have to do for myself.

But as long as I choose to live in a society instead of complete solitude, finding balance in life comes with oh-so-many choices and conflicts because of the environment and people around me. Therefore, finding balance is tough and requires a good deal of perseverance.

Balance is nothing I will find in only a year. It takes a lifetime to find evenness, calm even in the most stressful or unfamiliar situations.

But the fact that I’ve figured out what my meaning in life is (at the moment, at least), gives me an advantage already. I have the greatest end-goal not in sight but in mind, and that will help me make choices along the way.

***

How do you find balance in your every-day life? How do you choose between what you need to do for others and what you need to do for yourself?

 

 

Still Life Sunday: The Ten-Round Swimmer

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21 The Ten-Round Swimmer

After I’ve taken a shower, I put on my swimming cap that tightens around my scalp. I adjust my swimming glasses, and already I know that after I’m finished, they will leave marks around my eyes. I’ll look like an urban panda bear for the rest of the day.

When I have my glasses and my swimming cap on, I become anonymous. I become as anonymous as everyone else in the swimming pool. It calms me, makes it easier to focus on why I have come here today. I walk to the pool, take the steps down to the water. First, it feels almost too cool.

Then I start swimming.

I love how the chlorinated water caresses my body. How my ears fill with the steady rhythm of inhaling and exhaling, listening to the sounds both under and above the surface.

I feel my heart beating heavily, trying to distribute blood and oxygen to every cell and organ in my body, to keep me moving.

Sometimes I watch others, how they swim. Especially underwater.

I love seeing how their bodies move with ease, feet pushing the water, taking the body a little bit closer to the end of the pool.

But mostly I just count. The swimming pool is 50 meters. Swimming from beginning to end and back makes 100 meters. My goal today, and every other day, is to swim 1,000 meters, which means I swim ten times the pool from one end to the other and back. This takes me about 30 minutes but I never count time. Instead, I count the rounds.

So, I swim, and with every stroke I chant in my mind: one, one, one, one… It calms me. It also helps me focus, keeps my thoughts off certain things. For every round, I manage to ignore the negative, frustrating feelings and let them go as I focus on the rounds: three, three, three.

At the same time, as my body moves in a movement called breaststroke and my mind keeps on chanting (five, five, five), a process of some kind takes place. It’s the kind of process you are not aware of but when you step out of the pool you’ve somehow found a solution to a problem or decided on something you did not know the answer to before stepping in.

But first, I have to finish my rounds.

Eight, eight, eight.

The last rounds I do not think about anything else except the rounds. I am close to reaching my goal and as I reach it (ten!), I take hold of the edge of the pool and pull myself up. It always feels great. The feeling makes me think of female breaststroke swimmers who are so energetic and happy when they win the Olympics.

In the shower, I take off my cap and my glasses and with my fingers I trace the panda bear shape around my eyes.

From being anonymous for the last thirty minutes, I become an individual again.

This is me.

Choosing a Direction For 2019

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Happy New Year, reader! May your 2019 be energetic, motivated and filled with fulfilling things!

But here’s the thing: I wish you all that but we both know it’s not up to me if your year turns out that way. It’s up to you, my friend.

Now, you might think: ”Alright then, I shall make some New Year Resolutions!

I, however, advice you to do something different.

False Hopes and Aspirations

This Tuesday, when the new year began, I wondered what I thought about one year ago. The human memory isn’t that powerful that I’d remember what I did and thought about that day, and unfortunately I have no journal entries from that day.

(Oddly enough, I didn’t write anything personal at that time and had no idea I would be writing more than 140,000 words that year. Life is a funny thing.)

So, there is no way of knowing how I felt one year ago, on the 1st of January 2018. However, I would like to believe I felt all those typical New Year Feelings: happiness, energy, motivation. Because, that’s the way we are supposed to feel, right? Isn’t that the way we usually feel at the brink of something new?

When a new year begins, we feel motivated. We have all these hopes and aspirations about the new beginning that is starting right now, in the beginning of January. I guess we’ve all been there: we have these great plans about new challenges, the improvements we will make in our lives. The bad habits we will get rid of, the new good habits we will adopt. But there lies a challenge: despite how lovely and wonderful this feeling is, despite how much we believe in the changes we plan to make, it can all be false if these feelings and thoughts are grounded on something outside our own control.

Because of the society, because of the social norms of the world we live in, because of our environment, the people around us, we are programmed into feeling great in the beginning of the new year – because every one else is feeling that as well. It’s contagious! And that makes it oh-so-powerful.

However, the contagious energy of the new beginning fades as quickly as it comes – if we don’t embrace that feeling when it’s on our doorstep and make it our own.

And this is what I’d like to write about today: how to embrace that energy and gain as much control as possible over your upcoming year.

Resolution vs. Direction

As I wrote, I have no memory of 01/01/2018. We had just come back from our two-week escape to Spain and Portugal over the winter holidays, and I had a week or so before my classes would start again. I probably had some thoughts about the new year, what was on its way. I would finish my journalism studies, work for some newspaper or radio station that Summer and in the Fall, begin writing my thesis.

But all these things were already prescribed, planned by someone else than me. They were a part of my Master’s Degree curriculum – and therefore, not entirely my own plans. And as I reflect back to the beginning of 2018, I wonder: did I have any other plans? Any of my own that I had control over?

I honestly don’t think I did.

In January 2018, I didn’t write anything else except Instagram captions, chat messages and school assignments. I was in the beginning of my weight-loss project and troubled about what my future would bring. I had no goals for the year, no idea of what I wanted to accomplish (except for weight loss). Last year ended up being awesome thanks to my self-discipline and an amount of habits I adopted, all without any specific plans. But as in everything, the beginning is always easy.

For instance, the first hours of learning a new language are usually easy: learning to present yourself, numbers from 1 to 10 and how to order a coffee in a café. But the more pro you want to become the tougher the lessons get. Suddenly, you need to put in hours of dedicated, focused work to actually learn the more difficult words to be able to make proper conversation or learn the small details of grammatical rules.

To be able to go pro, one needs a plan.

Last year, I managed to write my first draft. It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing, nothing all too planned and something I managed to do by setting myself a rule to write 30 minutes every day from Monday to Friday (which turned into 1,000 words per day later on). But this year, I’m more dedicated to go pro and that requires more than one thirty-minutes-per-day rule.

However, instead of making a bunch of resolutions I’ve done something differently this year.

As you probably know, a resolution seldom sticks. It’s because they tend to be too abstract or too high-hopes. The resolutions tend to be set in the dream land, the utopia of your own making, instead of finding a place for those promises in the realistic environment called life (if you want to read a post about intentional goal-setting, check out this post by Ashwini CN).

I realized this a few years ago and decided to start my New Year without any resolutions.

However, I’ve noticed that a resolution-less life seems to resemble a life without direction.

A life without direction can be wonderful for a while – the freedom of moment, of choice, of life. But that also means that your direction-less life can be steered by the environment, the people around you, by the society and social norms. And suddenly, you might realize that you are no longer in control of your own life. Suddenly, you are heading for a career you didn’t really choose or invest your time and energy in a project you never had an interest in.

To me, it sounds like some sort of nightmare.

So – to avoid this kind of uncontrolled direction of life, I did the following:

On Monday, the last day of 2018, I walked to a café, ordered a cappuccino and sat down for an hour or so to write down a plan for 2019. I chose on a direction.

A Tangible Plan

What I did that afternoon was that I categorized my life according to these different goals I want and think I can reach as this year goes by.

One was for education (goal: finish my thesis and graduate),

one for writing projects, divided into two (goal: 1. Edit Yellow Tails and get it published, 2. Write the second novel and get it as publishing-ready as possible),

one for this blog (goal: post twice a week + be active on Instagram 3–3 times a week),

one for self-care (goal: learn more about HSP, take care of your physical fitness, keep on journaling) and,

one for self-development (goals: reading books, both fictional and fact-based, listening to podcasts about self-care, writing and creativity).

But in addition to this, I also added micro-goals and attached a specific deadline to them. For instance, I now have an editing – beta reading – editing – final edits and off-sending timetable for Yellow Tails. I have micro-goals for developing my physical fitness (gym 2–3 and yoga 1–2 times a week) and for finishing my thesis.

What I’m trying to do is make my goal as approachable and tangible as possible. If sometime during this year, for instance, I feel like I’m slipping from my goals to have an honestly finished version of Yellow Tails ready to be sent to publishers, I can take a look back on my micro-goals and the deadlines attached to them and get back on track.

In this way, my goals and the attached micro-goals are giving me my direction. They mark the path I have decided to walk upon this year, and as I’ve invested a good deal of energy into planning them, I hope they also help me stay on the path.

(Throughout January I will probably make the micro-goals even more detailed to make them even more tangible than they are now: write down ideas for this blog, put in Youtube-links for yoga videos for me to do, find resources that help me get on with the research for my second novel and so on. I don’t think the goals can ever be too approachable.)

I’d say the clue here is to 1) decide on a goal for the year (for instance: in the end of 2019 I will be an author with two ready-to-be-read novels), 2) attach micro-goals with deadlines to them, 3) break down the micro-goals into detailed resources, ideas and thoughts so that you won’t have trouble finishing them.

So, hear this: instead of resolutions, choose your direction and follow the road – but instead of opting to walk the whole road in one try, try walking from one rest stop to the other, from one park bench to the other. When the next park bench is in your view, aim for that and maybe, by the end of the year, you’ve reached your goal.

And in the end, I think the goal will come to you suddenly, unexpected, and might not even feel like one big victory because you’ve had so many micro-victories along the way. That’s what happened with Yellow Tails, at least. It was one long row of micro-goals reached so that when I wrote the last sentence, it didn’t feel like I had finished a novel. It was as if I had reached the end of the road and started looking for the next one to walk on.

***

I would love to hear your thoughts on resolutions vs. deciding on a direction! Share in the comments one goal, one direction of yours, and some micro-goals that will help you reach your goal. Let’s make this year into a year with a direction, friends.

Thank you for reading!