Public speaking - panic no more?

I have always had a love-hate relationship with public speaking. I get übernervous before speaking, and while I speak I blush - and it's not the cute kind of shy blush, I turn tomato red. This makes me even more nervous, which leads into rushing to finish whatever I wanted to say. In the university my blushing reflect was so active, that when I saw an add about treatment to cure blushing, I booked an appointment for an assessment. (And I also had a deal to write an article about it for my university newspaper.) The solution was to put titanium clips on the nerves leading to my heart: the clips would partially paralize the nerves, and there would be no more blushing. No thank you, I'd rather be red than have titanium suffocating my nerves. (However, the treatment has helped people with a severe social anxiety disorders.)

Despite my nervousness and blushing I have always been drawn to jobs where I have to speak to audiences. I've been a tour guide in a mediaval castle, taught students in elementary and high schools, run workshops, and introduced speakers to the audience in events and conferences. Every time before stepping in front of the audience I think "if I manage this time, next time will be easier". And when the next time comes, I'm again the same nerverack. Few times I've decided I will never again agree to do any public speaking. Haven't been able to stick to that decision either.

Four years ago, when I moved to Canada, I wanted to improve my public speaking skills in English. I learnt about the international organization called Toastmasters, which helps people to hone their speaking skills. (When I heard their name for the first time, I couldn't make the connection between toasted bread and giving speeches ... then I realized the other meaning of a "toast".) There are several clubs in Ottawa, but I was too shy to contact any of them, let alone to visit one of their meetings.

However, this past summer I felt it's time to take the bull by the horns, and attend a Toastmasters meeting. I am so happy I went! It was inspiring, empowering and welcoming, and I soon joined this wonderful group. Already in the first meeting I stood up to say few words. Next time I took part in an exercise called "table topics", which is a quick 1-2 minute speech on a random topic that you will be given just few minutes earlier. Red and panicky, yes. But I spoke, hooray!

By now I have participated in the table topics several times and also given two official speeches, 5-7 min long, in front of the other 20 club members. Based on the feedback I have done very well, and what has been even more exhilarating is that I have enjoyed giving those speeches. I'm still nervous, I still blush, but I feel I am in control of what I do, and to my surprise, I have loved being the center of attention!

Who knows, maybe my relationship with public speaking is turning into love-love?!

I CAN'T HEAR YOU!!

Have you ever been on a business lunch, where you have to say several times "sorry, I couldn't really hear what you said"? After a while you give up, and keep on nodding while wondering if you just missed something important. And you also wonder how much the other person actually hears what you are saying. Or have you been out with friends for a dinner in a place where you all end up yelling - in a friendly manner - at each other? And at the end of the evening your throat is sore, ears are ringing, and you're not sure if you talked about the same things at all. Fun night out, eh?

Not so much. In addition to losing your hearing and possible business or friendship opportunities noise can decrease your work efficiency, harm blood vessels of your heart, create nervous system disorders, or cause eyesight problems. Noise pollution is a serious issue.

I probably went to too many rock concerts in the past without ear plugs, and now I am paying for it, since my ears ring very easily. I have therefore zero tolerance for noise, and I boycott restaurants where you can't even hear your own thoughts. Unfortunately there are many venues like that in Ottawa. It's understadable (but not healthy) that you can't hear each other when you are in a nightclub, but what blows me away is that even in some cute cafes you can't hear each other, even though there's no loud music - or no music - on. The space becomes a cradle of cacophony simply from talking. That should not be the case. Venue owners, soundproofing exists! In a simple google search I got a list of 14 companies in Ottawa, and I'm sure they would be thrilled to improve the experience of your patrons.

If you are worried about your ears, or someone else's ears, and wonder how loud is too loud, check the website of Dangerous Desibels. From their chart I learnt that the level of typical speech is about 55-65 db, and city traffic is about 85 db. Being exposed to that noise level is ok for 8 hours, but anything louder should be shorter term. For example, listening to music on your iPod (or walkman, as stated in the chart) is in the range of 100 db. Did you know that you shouldn't expose your ears to this kind of noise level for more than 15 minutes? What about the people - often teenagers - who sit in the bus and crank their music so high, that it hurts your ears even if you are 3 meters away? Canada is going to have a deaf generation soon.

I am passionate about less noisy Ottawa, and in order to hear each other better and maintain our health, I am urging everyone to tackle the issue. Tell the venue owner that you did not enjoy your stay because you couldn't hear what your friends were saying. Boycott the venues that are too loud, and let them know why you are boycotting them. Tap that teenager on the shoulder and tell him/her that the level of music is dangerous to his/her ears. And if they can't hear you without shouting, write your message on a piece of paper and keep it handy.

Have a silent day!

Bye-bye Finland, for now!

I am a list-maniac, and therefore on my way to Finland I wrote a list of what I would like to do - or not to do - while I'm here. A major thing was not to rush, try to do too much, or worry about finding a job when I return to Canada. I wanted to enjoy my time.

In addition to spending time with my family, I was planning that daily I would walk or swim for one hour, read books and magazines, learn Arabic and limit the time I spend by the computer. Weekly I should have naps, do sauna and meet friends, but to be mindful of not overdoing socializing - overdoing it takes the fun out of it. I should also pay attention to what I eat: it is so easy to eat mom-made pulla (Finnish sweet bread) everyday, but getting rid of the pulla-belly later on won't be as easy!

About 10 days ago I was feeling that I'm not DOING enough, that I'm inactive, lazy you could say. Then I reminded myself about the purpose of this trip - the aim was to focus on being, not doing or achieving.

So how does it look like now, on my last evening in Finland? (Since I'm a stats-fan, I naturally had to keep record of what I do.)

In 24 days I've managed to go to five different saunas 13 times, have 11 naps, meet 12 of my friends (many of them several times) and talk with two others on the phone. I've traveled about 1500 km within Finland to visit four other cities in order to meet my friends and two of my sisters. I've spent plenty of time with my Mom, my three sisters, and my lovely nephew and nieces: I baked an apple pie and gingerbread cookies with them, picked them up from daycare, and played several rounds of memory game with both. I also met my godson twice and was still able to lift him, even though he's soon as tall as I am, and he's only 9 years old. I've read three books, browsed through several magazines, and read the newspaper almost every day. I've walked quite a bit, but not every day, and not necessarily for one hour at a time. I swam twice, but in the lake, so it was very fast. I haven't rushed, tried to do too much or worried about the future. Overall, I think I have managed pretty well to be!

What I didn't manage as well was my time spent on learning Arabic (0 minutes in 24 days) and limiting the use of the computer (way too much every day). Also moderating the pulla-intake was (not-surprisingly) ineffective, and therefore I probably have eaten a pulla everyday. Or if not a pulla, then Fazer chocolate. However, usually these were also moments shared with friends or family, so I do not regret one single pulla!

All in all this has been a wonderful holiday, and not even the dark November could have ruined it. My morning fun has actually been to check from the newspaper the length of the day. Today the darkness ended at 8.01 am, and the sun rose at 8.57 am. The sun set at 3.14 pm, and the darkness started at 4.11 pm. And dark really means DARK, no light whatsoever.

Leaving and saying goodbyes is always difficult, especially when I don't know when I'll be back in Finland again. But Canada is my new home, and I know that once I'm back there, it feels like I haven't even left. The same feeling I have every time when I come to Finland - as if I haven't been away for a year or so. It is the beauty of having two home countries, and the miracle of the human mind - it simply adapts, very fast.

So for now, bye-bye Finland, and see you again, sometime in the future!

No regrets

In February 2002 I was visiting Split, Croatia, for one day. I was there with my two friends, and we were at the Diocletian' Palace, built by Romans some 1700 years earlier. It was not one of those palaces where you have to cover your shoes with blue plastics, and you whisper to your friends when you're admiring the art on the walls. No, this was a palace that had become the city, and every inch of it was in every day use. There was even a pizzeria up on the second floor. Everything was made of marble, including the floor of the inner yard and the small alleys between the different parts of the palace. Hundreds of thousands of people must have walked on those streets in the past 1700 years, and the marble had been shined and smoothened by those feet.

It was a Tuesday morning, and the locals were hurrying to work and trying to avoid the tourists who were blocking the streets and taking pictures of the beautiful city-palace. I could't stop admiring the marble streets, and my intuition told me to take my red shoes off and feel the smooth white rock under my feet. But my mind was saying "what would the others think".

I didn't take my shoes off.

I still regret it.

This regret, no matter how silly the original matter was, led me to really understand how important it is to try to live my life in a way that I would not regret anything. It also strengthened my trust in my intuition and instincts. If my intuition now tells me to do something, and if it doesn't put me, or anyone else, in a physical, emotional, financial or any other kind of danger, I will do it.

However, trusting your intuition doesn't mean impulsive decisions. For example, when I left my job last month, it was a surprise to my colleagues, but not something sudden to me. I had thought about it for several months, but waited, because the time wasn't right. When I felt that the time had come, I still took a week to think before announcing my news. I wanted to make sure I wouldn't regret.

Sometimes, when you would like to trust your instincts, but you are afraid of the consequences, a little push might be needed. This happened to me in 2003. I had had a tumultuous year in my relationship, and I had an increasing back pain because of volleyball. I wasn't happy with either situation, but at the same time I was so used to both, that living without sounded scary. My savior came one Friday afternoon, when I read the daily horoscope in a newspaper. "Make the decision you have been thinking about", it encouraged. The next day I dumped him and quit volleyball, and I was happier than ever before.

Despite the greatness of your intuition, it is possible that it is not always right. Therefore it is important to learn when not to trust it. For example, when it comes to my sense of direction, my intuition is usually 180° wrong. Nowadays, if my intuition tells me to turn right, I turn left. It took a long time, and several u-turns, to learn this.

The past three weeks I've been in Finland visiting my family and friends. Another reason for the change of scene immediately after quitting my job was to figure out what I want to do next. I have talked with my friends, evaluated my experiences, dreamt big, and drafted plans. I have scribbled down random ideas in the middle of the night. I don't know yet what I will be doing next, but I think my intuition is onto something.

1 month, almost 900 views - thank you!

A month ago I published my first post in this blog, Where it all began. I had woken up three days earlier with the idea of starting a blog, and I spent all my free time during the following days on collecting courage to do it, choosing the colours and the layout of the blog, and pondering the name. I'm very happy I decided to use my long-time favourite "Lazy Perfectionist".

During those days I also drafted a project plan: what is the purpose of the blog and how do I know when it is successful. Since I love stats, I would obviously need numerical targets to measure my success.

Now I realize that I didn't have very high hopes about the blog: I aimed for 4 posts in the first month, and 50 visits. The reality has been very different: 11 posts and 889 pageviews!! I haven't figured out yet how many individual readers are behind these views, but at least 11, because I have readers in Finland, Canada, USA, Germany, Denmark, France, UK, Italy Spain, New Zealand and Croatia. Also I must admit that I probably make up some 300 visits myself, since my computer refused to stop counting my visits when I fine-tune the post after I have already published it.

In my project plan I also set a target of five comments from the readers in a month; this was easily reached too, partly in the blog and partly on Facebook. Reader feedback had an important role in updating the technical side of the blog: I was notified that in order to leave a comment they should have or create a profile - this restriction is now removed, and leaving comments should be easier.

The main purpose of this blog was to write and to feel happy and confident about it. I wouldn't nominate myself for a Pulitzer Prize or a Literature Nobel, but I'm quite happy about how things are going with writing - at least I'm writing! Obviously, due to my holiday in Finland, the recent posts have been focusing on the exotic Finnish hobbies such as sauna and ice swimming, but I look forward to seeing what kind of topics I will come up with once I'm back in Ottawa. If you have any wishes or suggestions, let me know!

Thank You for reading my blog and inspiring me to continue. Let the second Lazy Perfectionist month begin!

Marathon à la Tampere

When I entered a dimly lit sauna I first saw a woman with black arms and legs but white face and blond hair. "What on earth .." I wondered in my mind, but then it hit me: peat. She was covered with peat. I looked around and saw six more women. They made space for me, and I climbed up on the bench between them. I grabbed my yellow tupperware bowl, and hesitantly put my hand in it. Something felt soft between my fingers. I filled my palm with it, and started carefully spread it on my arms. Smooth, thick, black mud. Welcome to the peat sauna at the Telakka Restaurant!

Peat, or turf, is an accumulation of partially decayed vegetation. Peat sauna is a sauna, where you rub peat on your skin. Very simple. When I heard about this sauna opportunity earlier that day, I was immediately excited for three reasons: a) I can't say no to a sauna b) Telakka was one of my favourite restaurants when I studied in Tampere c) I had never tried a peat sauna before. As I was booking my spot for the 4.30 pm shift, I was advised to drink lots of water, because the treatment accelerates the metabolism and "will make you feel like you've run a 10K". I was also asked to bring a towel, a sponge and a comb. In my Canadianized mind I had a question about a swim suit, but I didn't say anything.

So there I was now, sitting on the bench with seven other women. The sauna room was beautiful and unique; due to the round shape of the giant stove the room somehow felt round too. As if I was sitting in a tower of a medieval castle. I kept spreading the peat on my arms, and then legs. I smeared my face and hair with it. I was surprised that the peat didn't smell bad - I had once played swamp volleyball, and I wanted to burn my stinky shoes after that. But now I was enjoying the feeling of the peat and my slick skin. My peated hair felt thicker than ever before.

When my bowl was empty, I sat still and enjoyed the moment. Some 15 min had passed, and the other women started to leave. I saw a wide stream of muddy water going down on the drain, when they were having showers. I wasn't feeling yet that I had run a 10K, or even a 5K, but the second shift was soon coming in, so I had a shower too. It was surprisingly easy to rinse off the peat, and soon I was peat free.

Afterwards I stayed for a while in the resting room, slowly swinging in a hammock. I sat cross-legged, my soles were against each other. I could feel the energy pulsating in my soles. I felt relaxed, rested and energized. Purified with Finnish mud. Couldn't get more Finnish than that, I was thinking.

I was wrong. Another type of those true Finnish saunas was waiting for me the next day.

- - - - -

I had sweat in the Rauhanniemi Public Sauna for the first time in my previous Tampere trip in 2011, and I had fallen in love with the experience. The yellow sauna, built in 1929, was located by a big, beautiful, cold lake Näsijärvi. I remembered how the water had felt icy cold that day, even though it had been a warm summer day, and the sauna was 100c (212F) hot. That time I hadn't tolerated the sauna heat too well, and I wondered how it would be this time.

I arrived there around 4 pm, when the sun was setting in the horizon. The area was buzzing with people, people in their swim suits sitting outside and steaming, or swimming in the lake.

I entered the sauna and was happy to notice that even though it was hot, it wasn't as hot as last time. "Maybe 90c", I thought. Some 20 people, men and women of all ages and shapes were turning red in the heat. Some were wearing funny felt sauna hats to protect their ears from the heat. I sat down, on the highest bench, like most of the others too. The air was hot, and I had to slow down the air flow when inhaling, otherwise I would feel my lips burning slightly. I looked around, and listened to the familiar Tampere dialect, where RRRRRs are rolling strong. I was enjoying it, and the heat.

Some 10-15 min later it was time to face the Näsijärvi-challenge, swim in the +4c water. I walked out and joined a line of steaming people heading towards the lake. There was no wind, and the smooth, cold boulder under my bare feet felt good. The first steps into the water didn't feel too shocking, and I plunged into swimming. Compared to my 2 seconds short ice swimming experience in Hollola, I took my time in the water now. At least 7 seven seconds, and without any panic. I stopped to wash my face before getting up from the lake.

I was feeling fantastic.

I walked towards the sauna building, but I was thirsty, so I stopped to drink some water outside. Then I had to sit down. Lie down. Suddenly I wasn't sure if I was going to faint. Should I talk to someone? Nobody knew who I was, and since I was only wearing a swim suit, my wallet and phone were in the changing room. They wouldn't know whom to call if I faint, except 911, of course. I drank some more water, inhaled deeply, and kept resting. I could feel my skin pulsating, as if my body had turned into one big heartbeat. I was lobster red. And even after swimming in the cold water, I was still steaming.

Slowly I started to feel more stable again, and the Fainting Finn -danger was over. "I guess the sauna was 100c after all", I pondered. "This is how I imagined I would feel after the peat sauna yesterday. Except this was not a 10K, this was a marathon," I said to myself, and continued resting.

I didn't go back to sauna anymore, one marathon for the day was enough. But I will come back again, next time.

Lazing away

The "lazy" in the name of my blog raised some questions among my colleagues. They were used to see an Efficient and Active Laura, so Lazy Laura didn't fit in the picture. I explained that my laziness is selective, and reminded them about some details which had revealed this. For example, when I got a new dry erase board at work, I immediately started to use it without mounting it properly; I simply balanced it on the top of some binders that I never used. It took about 6 months to mount it on the wall, and it was done by my colleagues as a surprise to me. It looked beautiful on the wall, I must say!

I also often mask my selective laziness under an excuse "this will do for now, I have some other priorities first". My husband can definitely attest to this, since I have created several makeshifts at home, and we both now it will take a while before the real solution will be in place. For example, in June I bought a beautiful Marimekko canvas, which I wanted to hang on the wall. So I did, the same day: a big piece of a cardboard, clothing pins and an old hook on the wall did the job. When our friend visited us later that week, he admired the temporary solution, and then carefully asked when I will fix it properly. "Probably not in 2012", my husband answered on my behalf. Well, he was right - the canvas is still hanging on a makeshift, version II. The first version collapsed a couple of months ago, so I had to craft a new, improved makeshift. It was not yet the right time to make the real frame for it.

I state in the blog introduction that my mom calls me lazy. It was the case especially during my teenage years. At that time I was always reading, and my answer to her requests of "take the garbage out", "clean the table", or something along these lines was always: "yes, soon". Well, her "soon" was sooner than mine. Sometimes - I guess quite often - she run out of patience with me, and she would do what she had asked me to do.

Now, when I'm again living with her for these three weeks, I try to behave better, like a responsible adult daughter. I try to be more proactive and reactive and help her in the everyday chores. However, the problem is her speed: she is so fast in whatever she does, and her patience is about 5 seconds short. I know that if I don't react within those seconds, the chore is already done before I get to it. Unfortunately I've noticed how tempting and easy it is to slip back to my teenage answer of "yes, soon .. " and just laze away.

November 11th

Today is a day of remembrance in both Canada and Finland, but the atmosphere couldn't be more different. In Canada, November 11 is a solemn and quiet day. It is the memorial day of the end of the World War I, and the soldiers, who have died in the line of duty, are being remembered. Today, November 11, is also the second Sunday of November, and therefore it is the Father's Day in Finland. It is a cheerful and celebratory day. The fathers are being showered with gifts and cards, and the restaurants are fully booked for Father's Day lunch.

I had never realized how these two events of my old and new home countries coincide, when the second Sunday of November happens to be the 11th day.

I had learnt about the "11th hour on the 11th day of the 11th month" in the school, but November 11 is not a memorial day in Finland, just a day among other days. Only since 2009, when I immigrated to Ottawa, I've learnt how much the day means to Canadians. However, since both of my grandfathers have died a long time ago, and my dad passed away in 2005, there was never a need to send a Father's Day card from Canada to Finland in November. That's why the proximity, and occasional overlap of the two days never occurred to me. Until today, when I'm spending it in Finland again.

When I was reading the Finnish newspaper in the morning I was searching for an article about the end of the World War I. Nothing. But pages full of stories and photos of fathers. I know that today the Canadian newspapers are full of red poppies and stories about soldiers who sacrificed their lives in the wars. I became curious and wanted to refresh my knowledge about what was going on in Finland in November 1918. I was guessing that Finland was still dealing with its own chaos after the Finnish civil war, and therefore the end of the World War I never marked a huge milestone to Finns.

It turned out that I was partly right, but I had also forgotten another important detail, which ties the history of Finland very strongly to November 11, 1918.

- - - - -

Civil war in Finland? Yes, it did happen, in 1918. Finland had declared its independency from the czarist Russian Empire on December 6, 1917, in the aftermath of the Russian revolution. But in January 1918 the country drifted into civil war between the "Reds", supported by the Russian Soviet Republic, and the "Whites", assisted by the German Empire. The war lasted until May 1918, the Whites won. 20.000 people had died, and 20.000 children had lost one or both parents. After the war the economy was down. Over 70.000 Reds were held in prison camps, and famine and disease were spreading in the whole country, but especially in the camps. Over 10.000 prisoners would die in the camps.

Since the Whites had won, Finland's future was politically and economically strongly tied to the German Empire. So strongly that on October 9, 1918, Friedrich Karl, the Prince of Hessen, had been chosen to become the first King of Finland. But the official coronation never happened, because on November 11, 1918, the German Empire collapsed and the World War I ended.

In less than two months the German army left Finland, and the almost-king-of-Finland Friedrich Karl renounced his crown. Finland would become a democratic republic, and Finland's independency, declared a year earlier, came into effect.

(More details about the Finnish Civil War can be found for example on Wikipedia, which I also used for writing this piece.)

- - - - -

Oops. This - the link between November 11, 1918 and the German King of Finland - was the detail I had forgotten about the Finnish history. The day is indeed a huge historical date in the Finnish history too, but in a very different way than in Canada. Maybe one reason for why it never became a memorial day in Finland was the fact that after the civil war the Finnish nation was badly scarred and divided. Some of the scars might still be open, and others have taken decades to heal. Only recently, 90 years after the war, there has been more open discussion on the events of the 1918.

When I started to write this blog entry in the morning, I didn't know where it would take me. I'm happy that I re-discovered this important part of the Finnish history, and I'm a little bit of ashamed too, that I had forgotten it. The Finnish Independence Day, December 6, shares the silent and solemn nature of the Remembrance Day, and now I understand yet better why. I am certain that next year, when I'll be standing again in the silent Remembrance Day crowd in Ottawa, watching the elderly veterans in their uniforms and covering myself better from the cold November wind, I will remember the effects of November 11, 1918 for Finland too.

But today, November 11, Remembrance Day, Father's Day, I will visit my father's grave and light a candle for his memory.

Healthy addiction

Yesterday morning was stunning. Sunshine, -2c and blue sky. No sign of the dark November I had been fearing for earlier. I went for a morning walk around a little lake, close to our house. The trees were frosty, and there was a tiny layer of ice on the water. I really wanted to go for a swim. And I'm not kidding.

Even though there's no polar bears in Finland, there's plenty on polar bear dipping, or avantouinti, as it is called in Finnish: "swimming in an opening in a frozen lake". It's a common hobby, especially among middle aged and elderly women (based on my observations), but Wikipedia tells me that it's equally common among men and women. Over 120 000 people in Finland claim to be regular winter swimmers, and the annual ice swimming competitions attract more than thousand swimmers.

I used to be a regular winter swimmer. When I was in high school, my volleyball coach introduced me to the icy sport in one autumn. After the first freezing cold experiences it became an addiction - if I skipped a couple of days, my body was craving for the icy fix. The reason behind the addiction are endorphins, which are body's natural reaction to pain - or pleasure. The highest endorphin levels lasted for the first few months for me, which meant swimming 5-7 times a week. After that the passion cooled off a little bit, and I only had to get my swim fix a couple of times a week.

I swam regularly for the next four years from November to February and ever since those days I have felt a huge temptation to swim, wherever I see a frozen lake. Well, after yesterday's temptation I had to challenge myself today - can I still do it? Dare I still do it? I haven't swam in a frozen lake for years, and the thought is scary, but oh so tempting. So I went.

It was again a stunning morning today. 10 min walk to the lake to wake up and warm up, quick change of clothes in a small change room (and it is really a change room only - no shower or sauna) and out to the stairs, which lead to the lake. The stone stairs were cold under my bare feet, and the wind in -3c felt cold on my skin. I knew the lake would be warmer than the air, about +2c.

I took quickly the steps towards the lake, inhaled deeply, and took the first step to the lake. And the second. Water surrounded my calfs and knees, and it felt reallyreally cold. I plunged into swimming - kind of panic swimming - so freezing cold it felt. I took about six VERY quick breast strokes, probably in 2 seconds. I couldn't feel my arms anymore, when I stopped in order to wash my face (you should never put your whole head under the icy water - the brain veins might not handle the cold very well). I got out of the water, took my towel and ran into the change room.

My skin was read, breathing was rapid, as if I had run a 100 m sprint. Once I took the swim suit off, the coldness disappeared, and I could feel my blood running fast, to heat up my body and recover from the shock. I started to feel really good.

I knew I have to come back again. Tomorrow.

A Night of the Thermometer Terror

It was a quiet Sunday night in the nation's capital, and a couple was just about to have some pumpkin pie and mint tea, before heading to bed. While the tea was brewing, the woman was cleaning up the clutter that had accumulated on top of a drawer over the past days; receipts, sun glasses, a thermometer. She walked to the bathroom with a thermometer in her hand, and reached for its case. She opened it, and slid the thermometer in ... all the way through, and to the floor, where it exploded into zillion pieces of shattered glass, a puddle of mercury on the floor and small droplets of mercury on the floor, walls and the door.

PERKELE, she said, loud and firm. Her husband, who knew well enough the meaning of this Finnish word, came to see what what had happened. She knew that breaking a thermometer is not a good thing because mercury is poisonous. He heard her saying this, but couldn't resist the curiosity to poke the mercury, when she stepped away from the bathroom. It was liquid indeed.

"What should we do? How do we clean this mess?" they asked from each other. "Google will know they answer", they thought, and so it did. In order to clean a small mercury spill, like a thermometer, one needs rubber gloves, protective eyewear or safety glasses, clothing that can be worn and later discarded, eyedropper, large trash bags, large tray or box, plastic bags with a zipper seal, paper towels, facial tissues or toilet paper, rags, tape - duct, masking or packing, stiff paper, plastic dust pan, wide-mouth containers with tight fitting lids, flashlight, commercially available mercury spill kit (optional).

It was 10 pm on Sunday, and this was getting too serious. They called 911 to ask what to do with a broken thermometer. 911 advised to open all doors and windows to air out any toxic fumes. 911 said someone will be sent over soon. "Hooray, we're saved!", the couple thought.

Soon there was a knock on the door. Two firemen and one firewoman walked in, and inspected the scene. They said they couldn't do anything, because they were not the team specialized in hazardous materials. "But the HazMat team was on their way", they told the couple. So the couple and the firepeople sat down and had some well brewed mint tea.

The HazMat captain was the first one to arrive, and he ordered everyone into the corridor, away from the toxic fumes. He interviewed the couple. "How did this happen? Did you touch it? Are you pregnant?" He made thorough notes. Soon his team of five men arrived - two in full protective gear with gas masks. The couple looked at each other thinking that it's good they didn't clean it themselves, if it is that serious!

For the next 30 min the HazMat team worked every inch of the tiny bathroom, cleaning the floor, walls and door thoroughly with tape. As requested, they checked the floors of the bedroom and living room with a bright flashlight too, since there was a possibility that some mercury escaped in the woman's woollen socks before she realized to take them off. While the team was removing the mercury, the only thing the woman was able to think was "why on earth I didn't vacuum today, the bathroom corners are full of dust!"

Finally the team was ready. Everything that had touched the scene had to be discarded. Ikea carpet, the man's socks and the woman's woollen socks, which had been knitted by her mom. The HazMat team packed these items together with their gear, and left.

The couple looked at each other without really knowing what to think. "We are safe now? Were we in a serious danger earlier, to be poisoned by a thermometer? What actually just happened here, were the firemen and HazMat team actually real?" ... "Is there a candid camera somewhere???"

All they knew was that it was midnight, the bathroom floor was shining clean, and the hand-knitted woollen socks would be destroyed as hazardous material.

Ode to sauna

Nothing, absolutely nothing makes me feel more at home than going to sauna at my childhood home in Hollola, Finland.

My parents built the sauna in the early 1980s. It's a small wooden room, with three levels of wooden benches. The highest bench is about a meter from the ceiling, so you will catch the heat nicely. Window to the garden and a dim light at knee high lights up the space enough. The sauna stove, with a pile of stones on it, stands in one corner. When we were kids we would play with the resin dribbling from the fresh wooden walls: when the sauna was hot and the resin was soft, you could mould the shape of the little droplets, and when the sauna was cooled off, the resin would solidify into beautiful golden droplets.

Last night I was there again, for the first time since July 2011. Sauna was heated to 80c (175F), and when I poured the first ladle of water on the hot stones, a soothing steam surrounded me. I could feel my pores opening, skin softening, and the stiffness in my neck, from sleeping in the plane, starting to melt away. It was hot, but not unbearable hot. Slowly I leaned back against the wall, and I could feel the heat of the wall on my skin. I could feel my heart beating faster, and sweat droplets forming on my skin. I was breathing in and out slowly; inhaling peace of mind and exhaling any stress left in my body.

Even though we have a sauna in our building in Canada (it was the main reason for moving into that building), and I use it several times a week, it can't compete with the sauna in Hollola. Partly because sitting in the sauna is only one half of the art - the other half is sitting outside of the sauna. In Canada I sit in a boring, white change room, and in Hollola I sit outside in a backyard, summer or winter. In the summer the garden is lush green filled with flowers, and in the winter it's calm and quiet.

It had snowed yesterday before I arrived to Finland, and with -5c and 10 cm fresh snow on the ground the backyard looked like a winter wonderland. I walked barefoot in the snow and watched the sauna steam coming out of my skin, when the body was adjusting to the 85 degrees temperature change. I lit up a candle in a lantern, and listened to the silence around. It is good to be at home again.

Easy like Sunday morning

Lazy Sunday is somehow special. No hurrying anywhere, just enjoy the day. Do whatever you feel like doing, or do nothing, if that's how you feel.

Today is one of those Sundays. The Canadian clock was switched to winter time last night, so I could waste one hour on doing nothing if I wanted, since I have 25 hours today. I got up at 8.30 am (old time), drank some amazing coconut oolong tea while doing some volunteer work related stuff. Then laundry. And it was only 11 am (new time) when I finished.

Later the day we were inspired to re-create our recent experience from (pre-Sandy) New York: Sunday champagne brunch and jazz.

During the Canadian Thanksgiving about a month ago we visited New York, and my Finnish roommate from year 2000. It was great to catch up with her, and get to know her husband. It was amazing to visit New York again, after several years. Especially because the first day we were greeted with +28c and sunshine, and it felt like a summer holiday again. Giant ads everywhere, people, yellow taxis. We walked, walked and walked.

The third day, Sunday, was rainy and cold, but we still kept walking. To a jazz club called Smoke, because a jazz brunch was waiting for us. The audience was smitten by the charismatic, engaging, beautiful singer Annette St. John, and her band. Two hours of wonderful old jazz, tasty food and champagne drinks, when it was pouring rain outside. I could not have hoped more for a Sunday in New York.

Today, in the autumny Ottawa Annette's voice on the cd sounded great, and it took us back to the atmosphere at Smoke. But I wondered if Smoke had Sunday brunches today. The post-Sandy news and pictures have shown a very different city than the one we visited a month ago. I hope Smoke is still standing, and the New Yorkers (and the neighbours) are soon having a normal life with homes, electricity and heat again.

Guilty pleasure #1

Babies nap, elderly nap, but something happens in between, and some people lose the skill of napping when they are in their adults years. I think that losing napping-ability is a result of societal pressure in the modern world: in many countries napping is not an adult-like behaviour, and you should be ashamed of it. Napping is linked to laziness, and a napper is therefore lazy. I strongly disagree, and to my delight, so do researchers. Several researchs have proven that napping has many benefits, such as refreshing the mind, improving overall alertness, boosting mood and increasing productivity. A midday nap reverses information overload, and in some cases, a 1-hour nap could even boost performance to an individual's top levels. Napping may even benefit the heart. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nap

I love napping. On the weekends, my goal is to have at least one nap. Ideally I would have one nap everyday of the weekend, including Friday evening after work. Napping makes the weekends longer, because it divides the day in two, and gives you a fresh start. So instead of two days, you'll have a four day weekend. Without using any of your vacation days.

My napping is a joke to my friends. Years ago I was warned that I will no longer be invited to parties, if I take a nap at the party (I wake up early and go to bed early, so parties beyond 10 pm are sometimes challenging). My godson, 9 years old, thinks that I'm always either in the sauna, or napping. My napping hobby is so serious, that instead of collecting baseball cards or vinyl LPs, I collect nap memories. Here's a list of my top 5 favourite naps:

5) 1998, naps outside in February, in -5c or so. I was supposed to study for my high school exams, but I always ended up having a little nap. All I needed was a sleeping bag, cat on my lap, cozy chair and sunshine. I did very well in my exams.

4) 2008, two naps before noon on Sunday. I woke up really early as usual, read the newspaper and drank a litre of tea. By 9 am it felt like a naptime, so I had a little 30 min nap. I got up, cleaned the house and went for a walk. By noon I felt like another nap is needed, so I made it happen. How perfect is a Sunday like that?

3) 2006, first nap in my new boyfriend's car. I have almost an instant reaction to sitting in a car; I fall asleep. I think it is a muscle memory from my childhood: our grandparents lived 3 hours away, and the fastest way to get there was to sleep most of the trip. Now, in 2006, it was the first week of dating, and we had gone for an evening swim outside of Ottawa. The ride back took only 30 min, but at some point I just couldn't resist of closing my eyes and falling asleep. When I woke up, I was thinking that he must be a good man, since I can feel so secure, comfortable and myself with him. 2 years later we got married.

2) 2012, nap in Ottawa's botanical garden. It was my birthday weekend, and my husband and I had biked some 20 km that day around the beautiful, sunny, spring Ottawa. When we reached the botanical garden, I heard the nap calling - the day was so perfect for it. Crab apple trees were blooming in purple, pink and white flowers, sky was blue, and fresh green grass was soft and alluring. My husband went to take photos of the nature, I laid down under a tree and had a nap. The best birthday gift ever!

1) The latest nap, wherever it took place, and however long or short is was. My latest nap was today, on the early evening of Halloween. Almost two hour long nap at home, and it filled me with energy: I vacuumed, wrote this post, and will soon make an apple pie and pad thai. Delicious nap results!

If you love napping, do not feel ashamed of it anymore. Be proud of yourself, because not everyone is able to nap. Think about the health benefits, and the productivity you gain by having a nap. Consider it as a precious skill; embrace it and use it.

Happy napping!

Surviving the Finnish November

I've been back to Finland twice after I immigrated in 2009. First time was for Christmas 2009, and second time July 2011. Both seasons are good for visiting, because in December you will (usually) have snow, Little Xmas parties, and then the real Christmas. In July you'll have lakes and midnight sun. (Or four weeks of rain like this year.)

The worst time to go to Finland is November, because if there's no snow yet, it's just reallyreally dark. And now I'm going there for 24 days, all in November. I'm actually a little worried how I will handle the darkness. I joked with my colleagues about headlights, until I saw a posting on my friend's Facebook page: one outdoor equipment company in Finland is hosting a "light-night", so people can compare different lights. "Headlamps for climbing, trail running, sailing, fishing..." says Petzl, which is one of the light-providers in the event. They should add ".. and Finnish November" to their sales pitch.

People in Ottawa complain about the darkness here, but to me, this is all sunshine. First of all, the sun rises before 8 am even in the darkest time of the year - both sides of the winter solstice which is just before Christmas. Second, you can actually see the sun in Ottawa. Not so in Finland. My mom just said that it's been overcast for six weeks in a row, and when there was one day of sunshine everyone was ecstatic. Some years ago, the capital of Finland, Helsinki, had 12 HOURS of sunlight in the WHOLE MONTH of December. Imagine that. You better catch the sun when it's out. And keep your headlight on for the rest of the time.

No wonder the Finnish equivalent word to beach holiday is "aurinkoloma" - sun holiday. Who cares about the beaches, as long as you can see the sun!

Oh well, I know it's not going to be that disasterous. Even if it would be dark and overcast for the whole month of November, I will have great time with my family and friends, sitting in sauna every other night and eating real rye bread.

.. and where it all begins now

Yesterday was my last day at work.

One of the agencies, which I described in the previous post, and which helped me immensely in the beginning of my new life in Canada, had turned into my employer 10 months later. I started as an employment counsellor and facilitator, then became involved in testing a new Ontario wide curriculum, and a year later became a project coordinator of that same program. Another program was given to me too, and I was soon leading a team of 14. My team was helping over 100 newcomers every month, and every day I felt how our work makes a difference in newcomers' life.

An exciting, and at time exhausting 1.5 year followed; in addition to supporting and leading my team, I was heavily involved in streamlining services, which meant constant troubleshooting and problem solving. I was loving it. I was able to create, initiate and implement.

So why did I leave? Because all the hard work had paid off, and it had started to feel that the structure is in place, the services are more or less streamlined, and my team is strong. Even though there was still plenty of work to do, I felt my part was done. Leaving the organization wasn't an easy decision, and it took me almost six months to think about it before I finally felt that now is the time. So in early October I announced I will be leaving by the end of the month.

I thought that giving 3.5 weeks notice will give me and everyone else plenty of time to get used to the idea. And I thought that since the most difficult thing - telling the news to my team - was behind, the farewell party would be piece of cake. Well it wasn't: my speech of 11 sentences took about 5 min because of all the crying, blowing the nose, and breathing I had to do between the sentences. Not the most graceful speech, but hopefully memorable at least!

It went something like this:

"When I immigrated almost four years ago I had plenty of plans and dreams. But I didn’t have confidence or knowledge. When I became a client here, I started to build knowledge, and gain confidence. When I became an employee here, it further continued. Three years here have been an amazing experience. I’ve learnt so much, developed new skills and met wonderful people. Working here has fulfilled one of my dreams – working on immigration. And above all, this past three years have given me confidence in my own skills and abilities. Therefore it’s time to use that confidence to reach my other goals, which I had four years ago. This organization will always be a huge part of my life, because it made me who I am today. And it helped me to make Canada my home."

The worries and hesitations I described in my previous post are gone, and they are replaced with confidence, knowledge and connections. I feel like I am having a second round of immigration now, and I'm excited to explore what it brings to me this time!

Where it all began then ...

I immigrated to Canada almost 4 years ago, in February 2009. In a month I was busy with accessing the support services for immigrants, learning how to write a Canadianized resume and create an effective elevator speech. I took all the available programs and attended every possible additional event with the agencies. I came across confident to many, but they were just fooled by my smile, height and good posture. Deep down I was insecure about my English and feeling lost with my plans.

I had done many things in my past; journalism, public relations and immigration research. All of these were about writing stuff, and writing it very well. But it had all been in Finnish. I knew that if I was a Canadian boss, I wouldn't hire myself to do any of that writing in English. So the question now wasn't what I want to do, but what I could do with my skills and experience.

With the help of my employment counsellors and mentors I narrowed down my short-term goal: get a job in event coordination. I had experience in it, I liked it, and even though writing is an important part of it too, it wasn't the main task. The problem was that I also wanted the content to be something relevant to me - I didn't want to coordinate events of a car company, but of a company that does something good.

My long term goal was to do something with immigration. I wasn't sure yet what exactly - did I want to continue in research? Or work in front line? Or something else? I didn't even know what else is out there.