Seeing an old friend

After three months of absence, today I decided was the day.

A careful and considerate reunion. Bitter but still sweet.

My first cup of coffee after a break longer than ever before.

Family skiing

It was icy and windy, but still fantastic. There are not that many capitals where you find tracks fifteen minutes from the city centre.

Today's lunch

Contrasts etc.

Turkey

Preparing, cooking and eating turkey pretty much sums up Boxing Day 2012.

Happy Christmas

The Christmas celebrations have started.

Enjoy celebrations

Friday night was the forth time I celebrated my birthday this time around. I love celebrating! A lovely evening with some of my fantastic girlfriends. We make up a great mix actually.

There is Beautiful J with many years of experience from living abroad, touring the world and performing on the big stages. In addition to being my most creative friend we also share many spiritual beliefs. Many are the evenings we have taken advantage of being on slipper distance from each other. A cup of tea, a drink, a take out. Just like that.

There are Lovely L and Adorable, the mothers of two of my three goddaughters.

Lovely L became my friend during the first London years. Many are the times we entered Café Dôme, ordered the special of the evening for less than £10 and went through our week. Her family is a bit like my extra family in Stockholm. Always warm and inclusive. Busy mother of three, she still finds time to prioritise our friendship.

Adorable, who I've travelled with to Paris, New York, Sicily, Courmayeur, Verbier, Copenhagen, Goa and probably some other places. We also shared a few years in London. Probably one of my most honest friends - if I ask I get it, whether it's nice or ugly. Sometimes I get it without asking. So when my living room was crowded with three different couches she was the one who opened my eyes to the fact that it was an interior disaster. She was also the one who said she didn't believe in my previous relationship. Sharp with heart.

There is Little B who became my friend during my last couple of years in London. We hit the shops as if there was no tomorrow. But we also spent many evenings in the (posh) pubs and restaurants dressed up, enjoying every minute of being independent and resourceful. Once back in Stockholm she hasn't just been a dear friend but also an informal guide into the industry we share as our professional base.

An evening in the busy restaurant crowded with Stockholmers who probably celebrated the final day of work before the holidays. An evening filled with conversations where one of the more unusual ones covered how you organise (or don't organise) your personal admin. What do you do with the old credit card slips? For how long do you archive receipts? If you archive anything at all... But we also covered design and fashion, children and schools and many other topics that came to our minds.

For us who still had some energy left, the evening continued to the Posh hotel where we enjoyed a final drink while we admired or dispised the outfits of the other guests. But really, we enjoyed the international flavour provided by the non-Swedes.

So now I have to wait another year for a week of celebrations.

Drink and nailpolish

The warm up before meeting the other girls in the restaurant for the evening.

What will happen tomorrow?

Will the world end tomorrow? That was one of the topics we discussed at the hairdresser's this afternoon. And if so, who cares about my grey hairs and split ends? We concluded that whatever happens, here or on "the other side" you want to look good. So yes, it was worth spending the time and money to get the hair done.

A meeting room is a meeting room

But this meeting room is in London! I know you can't see that, but when lunch is from Pret A Manger and we have Walker's shortbread with our tea, then you get the London vibes.

King's Road on a Sunday morning

Normally, King's Road is full of sloanes. But before 9 am in the morning you are pretty much on your own. A brisk walk to Triyoga and a much needed class which set me off for the rest of the day. On the walk back I was ready to hit the shops once more...

Sloane Square by night

It's like coming home.

Heart London!

Tea and cookie at Starbucks, Kings Road after an hour at Kings Road Sporting Club, i.e. the shop that stocks all yoga outfit brands you may want.

Christmas lights at Regent Street. Followed by shopping at Calvin Klein and COS.



Liberty. Not one of my usual haunts, but the entrance was to welcoming not to enter and their stationery makes you want to write letters and cards to everybody you know.


Carnaby Street, which was still being developed when I first moved to London. The reason I know that is because in my accounting days my favourite client was a property investment company specialising in West End locations and Carnaby Street was one of their hot spots. From a street of nothingness, it's now sparkling and trendy.

My walk went from Carnaby Street towards Covent Garden. By mistake (!) I ended up on Oxford Street for a moment. How this street ever became so popular among tourists beats me. Croweded with people and traffic, all those cheap shops filled with rubbish and fried junk food in every corner. Ugh.

Relief when I got back on track and made it to Covent Garden and St Martin's Courtyard.

And this is just the beginning of my weekend. Did I say I love London?

There was a letter

Well, may be it was an email. A Swedish girl who lives in Shanghai is working on her application to college. She needs support and feedback. I suspect she can't get it from her own family and I guess she doesn't know other adults who she trusts.

Through one of my mentees, the email is addressed to me. I read her two page personal story, which exposes a very different upbringing. Absent parents, lack of human friends (but plenty of animal friends) formed this girl for life, so it seems.

What she is doing in Shanghai, I don't know. Where she wants to go to college, I don't know either. What I do know is that she is desperate to have someone to talk to, who can give her some guidelines. How do you do that when you have no knowledge of who she really is, her values, her personality? I'm preparing one of my more difficult coaching sessions. A gentle approach filled with questions to try to give this girl something that will hopefully help her to take the next step in her life.

Humbleness and modesty.

Traditions

Traditions provide security and a sense of belonging. Something we do year after year, inherited from previous generations and something we would like to introduce to the new family we create. A way to honour those who came before us, a way to define our family values.

But there is also the flipside. Traditions filled with expectations and demands. Traditions with restrictions - do this but not that. Something is right and something else is wrong. If you don't follow the tradition, you are different and different is hard if you want to belong.

So why not pick what you like, enjoy what is and leave the expectations outside the equation? The season ahead of us is filled with musts and have tos. Or you can decide that this year is the year when you will put all of that aside and just go with your own flow.

This applies to any old tradition, including yoga. This was the theme on Tuesday and it continues to be the theme today.

So when I, according to tradition in my family, put on the telly this morning to see the Lucia celebration from one of the city churches I was reminded of my own sense of right and wrong. All of a sudden during the Lucia procession, there is a rapper who interrupts the beautiful song from the choir. That's how I interpret it. For a short moment I thought it was a mistake. For younger generations? It's probably a welcome ingredient which connects old with new, something that they can relate to perhaps more than the songs that have been sung since the nineteenth century.

Conclusion? Have courage to make the tradition your own. Sometimes breaking with tradition could be a good thing.

Wild animals times twenty

I ordered one copy for my youngest nephew. But I ended up with twenty. No, they didn't charge me. So I guess I will be handing out picture books to every zero to two year old I know. If I know that many...?

The second advent

The weekend has been flavoured with Christmas throughout.

Mulled wine, Christmas tea and saffron buns with Charming J as I got one of her spontaneous texts, suggesting to meet up on Saturday afternoon. As always lovely to see her and we managed a soft catch up in between Christmas shopping and Christmas concert.
 
Pizza (OK, there was nothing christmassy with the pizza) with my six year old goddaughter T and Lovely L. T is now the age when she will most likely remember the things we do so we better start doing things worth remembering. The dinner was a prelude to a Christmas concert by the female choir who has the honour of having my sister as one of the soprano voices. It was a full on lucia procession and the traditional Christmas songs, including some of my British favourites. Top score in all categories. T's sharp observations amuzed both Lovely L and I. I can see that we will have a lot of fun as she continues growing up.

A Sunday spent outdoors in a beautiful snowy city, walking to the Grand Hôtel for a treat from someone who once had a direct access to my heart. Although the treat was perfect, there was something not quite right. I was brought back to something that no longer is; circumstances which were real when the gift was given to me. I was left with a sadness from dreams I believed in that were brutally crushed.

I left the Grand Hôtel and the busy lounge filled with Nobel guests and without a particular plan I strolled between Christmas lights and shop windows filled with Santas. A call from Adorable and ten minutes later we met up in the posh department store. A big advantage of Stockholm. Nothing is very far away. We spent the next hour discussing life questions as we zigzagged between glassware and toys. For people around us we were probably out Christmas shopping. But for us, the shopping was secondary. Like popcorn at the cinema. You don't go to the cinema to eat popcorn, but they are a welcome side dish to the film. 

The Christmas activities continued as I had a rendez-vous with a couple of girls at the most classical coffee shop in my neighbourhood.

So what would be a good way to wrap up the weekend, without changing the flavour? A classical movie like "Breakfast at Tiffany's" or "Doctor Zhivago" perhaps...

How old do you think I am?

I have heard it happening to others but I can't remember it ever happening to me. Not for fifteen years at least. But yesterday it was my turn. To show my driving licence to prove I'm old enough to buy wine at the state run alcohol shop. I have almost forgotten what age would be underage.

Even though my order included cooking wine (who buys cooking wine when you are nineteen or twenty?), the young man at the counter thought I might be trying something. It was with a big smile and "of course you can see my driving licence" that I proved that his suspicion was unfounded.

If the young man at the counter made my day, which was otherwise pretty disappointing, Beautiful J made my evening. We met at the corner of our two streets already at five o'clock. Then we decided to spend the evening at our local pub. Yes, there is a proper English pub around the corner from where we live. It was crowded as it should be. We managed three pints of lager each and talked, talked, talked. Much has happened in the last couple of months and we were both eager to fill the gaps and let the other person in on our deepest thoughts.

Unused to the amount of beer, my head is heavy today. But my mind is light and that's what matters more.

Learn from Buddha and the regrets of the dying

A man came shouting angrily at Buddha, who remained unaffected by him. When questioned by others as to how he remained calm and unaffected, Buddha answered with a question:

"If someone gives you a gift and you choose not to receive it, to whom does the gift belong?"

Of course it stays with the giver.
---
I'm reading "The top five regrets of the dying" by Bronnie Ware. Yes, perhaps it sounds morbid and grim, but there is plenty to learn from people who have gone through life and wish to pass on their wisdom without any ulterior motive.

Regret number 1: I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me. 

Adorable, snow and meatballs

Celebrating and socialising over breakfast is underrated. A perfect set up for relaxed conversations as there is a continuous flow of food and people moving between the delicious breakfast buffet, the table and the couch. And the thing with breakfast is that there is always room for a little bit more, so it can go on for hours. Adorable birthday girl treated us to breakfast de luxe and some of us would have stayed for the rest of the day had it been an option.

But as it was, we eventually made a move and were all exposed to Stockhom by winter. Big time. The public services went down one after another as the snow kept coming. The city is now covered by soft cotton, the traffic moves very slowly and the streets are unusually quiet as most people sit still indoors if they can.



So what do you do when your are snowed-in? Well, work is always an option. But even the mobile and the emails seemed affected by the weather conditions and it's been a very quiet day. So plenty of time to make meatballs, my contribution to the family Christmas buffet.



The snow inspires further Christmas activities. May be it's time to open a bottle of mulled wine and get those Santas out from storage...

Back to school

Literally. My old college. The reason for my return was a lecture by a boardmember who sits on the board of my major client. His lecture was about career choices mixed with some theory on capital markets and what it means to sit on a board. He openly explained that his motivation to work hard had been money. A lot of money. But once he had the money he realised the money was a mean to freedom, to own his time. And so he stopped working in the traditional sense.

"The more money you have the less it means. The less time you have, the more precious it becomes."

So after a successful career he stepped off the ladder, started to coach girls in basketball and signed up for various courses, like philosophy, at the University.

The message to the teenagers who were at their second or third year was clear. Find out what drives you; your inner motivation. And whatever you do, study hard!

Marni spring 2013

The snow has just arrived so spring is far away. But a girl can dream.