A Serene Awakening In The Mist

Hello dearest friends.

As I mentioned yesterday, I had a date with Jay and the harvester. It’s not by any means one of those bigger models, but it weighs over five thousand kilos and is big enough for someone who thinks a tractor is big. When I sat up in the cabin of the harvester the tractor that usually seems so huge appeared to be oddly little next to it. This is the only harvester I have seen up close and personal, but can you believe it is operated by what looks like a gaming joystick? Push forward for driving forward, pull back for reverse, and the buttons control the tray and the big barrel that grabs the stalks and pull them toward the cutters. I can imagine it’s fun… once you learn.

Oh, it was very tricky and I didn’t get a hang of it this time. At one moment, when I had to reverse, Jay opened the door to step out on the landing to look and tell me when to stop and turn. I have just started to get a feel for the turning circle on a tractor, then this! Haha I was so awkward with my movements that the entire harvester jerked as I tried to maneuver it, and I can’t remember what I did but suddenly that big machine launched forward. If Jay hadn’t held on to the railings he would have flown right off! He took it all in good humour, but I felt so bad. No wonder he didn’t ask me to come back after I went to pick up our daughter from a birthday party. Haha


Earlier this week I had the greatest pleasure and fortune to witness one of the most beautiful and mystical misty mornings, and ever since I have been wanting to tell you about it.

When I left Sweden after finishing my studies, I have had this tendency to compare these surroundings to the majestic forests and mountains of my childhood regions. I have thought of Ångermanälven and its enchanting veils, the shifting tones dressing the mountains and valleys around it as we move toward winter with a sense of wistful longing. While mist isn’t uncommon here, and the forests are just as deep and mystical, I seem to have had it in my head that it isn’t the same. That somehow the spirit of these forests is a different one and we haven’t gotten fully acquainted yet. Does that make sense?


Regardless, mornings like these carry a very special magic. When these flowing veils dance on feathered feet over the lands, they bring a quiet with them that seems to turn up the volume to an otherworldliness without definition. An atmosphere of something else entirely, something that at other times can’t be sensed. Have you ever felt it?

That night I was outside working with Jay and stood in the open doorway to peer into the grain container, I swore I could hear women singing. It sounded like they sang in Finnish, but a very unfamiliar kind. I explained to Jay why I went to stand in the corner where the mist couldn’t get into the building. I wasn’t so much frightened than just puzzled as to why I could hear it when the mist flowed past me and not when in that corner. He told me, jokingly, that perhaps it’s time I get my head checked.


There have been times throughout my life when I have been more heart than head, more emotion and unheeded reaction than thoughtful action. Moments wherein I have been like a leaf in the wind (as my father so often called me), but words of caution, responsibility, right or wrong, echoed with every step I took. As a result I always felt a sense of choked delight. As though while I went my own way, my feet felt shackled and my heart torn. Shame. Shame for my dreams, for what I wanted and chased after in spite of those reprimanding voices in my head. I traveled wide and far in my little cage, with my wings constantly getting tangled up in the bars around me.

And for every lecture, for every time I received criticism or was prompted to think about what I was doing — what are you going to do with your life? — that door to my cage I kept rattling slammed into my face. Yet somehow I managed to keep on going. I adapted a way to be, since I didn’t even know how to free myself. I didn’t even know I could.


I have heard that people who lose a limb can still sense it there. Wiggle the toes of an amputated leg, feel an itch, even if it’s not there. That is how I perceive this cage I lived with it so long. Now that I am finally rid of it I still feel its remnants around me.

I have to fight just as hard to walk my own way as I did before, only the battle is wanting to, telling myself what I once didn’t have to, what I just knew, yet felt such deep shame for. Get your camera and go outside. Take out a piece of paper and draw. Go explore the forest. How can something that brings so much joy and soul-deep happiness be so exhausting to make myself do? Once I am there in the moment, I let go. I feel the wind on my face, the flow of life around me. But to get there I have to work my butt off on many days.


On this particular morning I didn’t even have to conjure the thought process. I looked out the window and knew that as soon as my daughter walked out the door to her taxi, I would join her with Loke by my side.

Moments like these give me strength and energy beyond imagination. On my worst days they confound me but give me hope. Underneath the weight of a heavy heart and bones lies a knowing the feeling will pass. I tell myself that one day I will have done more living than slumbering, and I will have regained my balance once more.

In the meantime, I want to stay awake and alert, even when it seems like all I can do is wait for that mystifying apathy to pass. I want to learn as much about myself and this stage as I can. And I hope with all my heart that one day what I go through can somehow help others through their dark hours. To know it won’t last forever.



To even think I was alone in this put me in isolation. Like I swam dark, deep waters with no sense of direction of the shore. Was there even a shore? Was this to be the rest of my life? Now that I know I am indeed not alone it has helped me to stay afloat when the night closes around me.


Sunrises, just before they happen, are to me so incredibly beautiful. That rimmed glow of the clouds, the clean golden shimmer kissing the tree tops. Ever so slowly that shimmer melts into a white glow, and when those first rays hit — I can’t describe it as anything other than life. A serene awakening of the cells in my skin.



When I sat down to work on this post I intended to publish it by lunch time. It is now past midnight and with the fewer hours sleep I have been getting this past week again, I feel it has gotten to such a point I lose track of time and the trails of my thoughts. So if I seem disjointed or if anything sounds odd, that is why. Haha But I want so badly to share this morning with you that I have returned to these slow-filling lines in spite of my brain constantly begging for a shut-down.

Also, there is something else I have been wanting to tell you about, something I am so excited about. A dream I have carried deep down for the longest time, and recently I grabbed onto it with both hands. But I do want to practice that one-step-at-a-time thing. For the sake of my scatter-brain, too, I know it is easier to focus on getting one thing done before starting another if I want to succeed. And still I want so much, so many things, at the same time and try to do them. I can’t imagine how this must sound, but I will just let it be so. Creativity and inspiration that has been sleeping for so long seems to have an erratic effect on me when it awakens.


I want to wish you a wonderful week ahead. Good night, and see you soon!

Much love. ❤

9 thoughts on “A Serene Awakening In The Mist

      1. Thank you very much for the reply, I really love this blog, I’m so glad that you take the time to do it and that I found it.
        I went the forest about an hour after I got up, the weather was fine but not quite sunny, the air definitely has that Autumn feel , kind of a fresher smell to let you know that the season has changed, there is a raised area that looks out over the lake with a picnic table so as no one was around I used that to sit on 😉 hope no body saw me. I’m not that good at Yoga but I do love it so I just did my own version of a sun salutation with warrior pose, I used to do Karate (which I am good at!) and the warm up is pure Yoga with a Japanese name, as I’ve got older the Karate has slowed to a stop and the Yoga has increased I must be getting old !
        Hope you are having a good week too.
        Sorry if this has come through twice, its the second time I’ve typed it, I don’t know what I did, but the first reply just disappeared ! and that reply was better I think because it was spontaneous and now I’m trying to remember what I typed first time ! And you and Josefin think you have scatter brains 🙂 (Hi Josefin hope your well too )

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Haha, Ian, you are not alone in “losing” your messages. Maybe more of us carry around a hidden scatter brain than we think. 😉

        That sounds so interesting that you practiced karate! I’m glad you have found yoga to help you in its place, though. I too do my own routines with yoga, even if I thought it wasn’t bad at all this time around when I went to do it in a group. We had a really good instructor, and I didn’t feel awkward at all as I usually have when doing those sort of things among other people. It sounds like you had a really wonderful time though. Thank you for sharing that with us, and I’m also so glad you found my blog and that you like it so much. I do apologise for my slow replies, but I always read and enjoy your words very much.

        Have a great day, Ian! 🙂


  1. I really appreciate this post as it takes the reader through all the different processes that is going through your mind. I find that a lot of other post can appear as too polished making me as a reader feel inadequate that “why am I not so smart, and insightful 😔😔
    In can really relate to the feeing of wanted to do it all and being a scatterbrained fairy who needs to work on her structure.. but at the same time I don’t want to be to structured cause then I lose the magic…
    Ahh haha don’t know how to end this message now since it feels like I’m going in a circle…

    But I guess that happens to more than me 😁😁

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh, Josefin, I usually wait to reply to comments so that I know I have time to reply to all of them but this made me feel so strongly I have to reply when my reaction and related emotions are still fresh, if you know what I mean?

      I can’t tell you how much I can understand what you are saying, but considering how you recognised yourself in what I wrote and HOW I wrote it, I think we are operating on a similar wavelength. I read my post when I got up this morning, since I had a strong suspicion it must have been messy considering how hazy I was when I wrote it. I sat here laughing as I read it and thought exactly about these things you are saying. So very often – if not all the time – I feel that insightfulness is like a slippery eel, because I follow its trail and it is right there, but then I can’t capture it entirely to collect it into a cohesive text. I really feel what you say about the inadequacy and not feeling smart or insightful, but in all earnest I do believe you are. It’s that scatter-brained fairy (lovely name for it!) in us that seems to be faster than we can keep up with, so even if we are insightful, she flies onward and merely doesn’t tie up her artistry and beautiful creations in a neat, tidy bow.

      I very often forget these things, but you have reminded me, and I can tell you my day got instantly brighter. So thank you SO much for sharing these words with me. They are so precious. ❤️😘

      Much love to you darling. And do keep your magic close. The world is full of structured folk, and I believe with all my heart we are just as valuable and needed as they are. 🙏✨ Many hugs.


  2. hello lotta, I agree with you that those images where the fog dances to the sound of tranquility in the forest, has a kind of strange mysticism mysterious, and gives the sensation that something or someone, in the plural, was approaching, so no you need to check your head, we are two, ha ha ha … in a post about something similar in Jonna Jinton’s blog, about the fog, explain a similar experience, even called me by my name, no joke , if you like, look for what it explains is that publication, I think, and I attest to it, that many writers and composers, were not crazy or had an exalted imagination, but in a kind of language in code, they talked about these things, for us, are mysterious, that in this false culture and materialistic society, as in which we live, our senses atrophied our senses at birth, these writers perhaps collected stories, some forgotten, and shaped them in their works, to give an example: John Bauer and Elsa Beskow, Richard Wagner, Sibelius, Mozart, and many others.
    the important thing is to “wake up”, the dream in which we live, as you very well said, that is something very personal.
    I hope to know what you wanted to tell us, what you are so enthusiastic about, but as advice, sometimes it is better to keep silent about certain things, because by the time they are working, you can talk about them.
    Have a good week, you and your family, a hug, Fernando.


    1. Oh, this is so interesting what you write. I have thought the same things, and wondered over where all these mysterious beings and creatures come from. Wild imagination and I were friends since childhood, but I do believe the inspiration needs to come from somewhere. Just like a plant springs out of a seed that is put into the earth, so too must imagination be fed. Do you know what I mean? We draw from what we know, from what we have seen or experienced. It all begins somewhere, with something. This is what I believe. And these artists you speak of are great examples of having produced incredibly magic with their talents. I don’t know Richard Wagner, though, so I will have to google that. 🙂

      Also, thank you for your wise advice. I have thought of that, and while I still have some things I need to do before I can share my excitement, it will also give me plenty of time to consider it. I do believe this is one of those things that will only strengthen my intentions by sharing, but I am still thankful for the advice. 🙂

      I wish you a good remainder of this week, too! Many hugs to you, Fernando. ❤


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