Things I Miss About My Home in England

The special needs group in the building across from mine and their whole-hearted Karaoke singing every Saturday.

Being able to get lovely dinners and desserts at Marks and Spencer’s.

The guy who was always blasting Status Quo as he drove around town in a little blue car.

The daily market selling everything from fresh fruit to antique jewellery.

Feeling like a true Londoner every time I took the Tube and ended up where I wanted to be.

My cute little British students with their polite manners and smart uniforms.

Street musicians of all varieties that made the shopping street feel like a party.

Hearing a variety of British accents everyday and loving each one.

Walking past beautiful historic buildings on cobbled streets every day.

That one particular street musician who, without meaning to, made every song sound like a threat. (I’ll never listen to Dreadlock Holiday the same way again. “You better run! You better take cover!”)

Being able to take the train and watch the countryside roll on by.

Going to the Theatre and visiting Museums regularly.

Walking through the streets of London.

Nesting Instinct.

Nesting is a term used to describe the instinct or urge an expectant mother feels to prepare a home for her newborn. Lately I've been having some nesting urges. Don't worry Ma and Pa, I'm not pregnant. But I do feel a longing to create a place that is mine. I've never fully had that. For the first part of my life I always shared a room with my younger sister, then for a brief time I had my own room, and then I started moving around roughly once a year (sometimes more) which never really gave me enough time to create a home for myself. Right now I'm living in England and I'm renting the top floor of the local vicarage. In some ways I have made it my own, but in most ways it's just a room. The furniture is not mine, the bedding isn't mine, I can't paint the walls or put up pictures. Next year I plan on getting my own place. A place that is really mine. I doubt that I'll actually buy a place, but I would like to rent something that is its own unit. Not a basement suite, not a coach house, but a real apartment that I can make my own. Furnish with furniture that is of my taste. Hang up some of the art I've collected and pictures of people I love. Fill it with knick-knacks and books that mean something to me. Heck, if they let me maybe I'll even get a dog. Yes, I'm looking forward to finding a place to make my own. A place to settle for at least a year or two. A home. 

The Gift

He handed her the book.

‘I’m sorry it’s not a first edition.’

‘Well does it have the same words?’ she asked.

‘Yes, I suppose it does.’

‘Then I love it just the same.’

She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

This made him happy.

He hoped she would do it again, but instead she began to slowly thumb through the pages.

Thankfully, watching her enjoy the gift made him happy too.

Getting To Know You.

There are many blogs I've written but never posted. Good blogs too. Ones that revealed different parts of who I am. Blogs that share some of my hopes and dreams, my insecurities and my worries. I haven't put these blogs on the internet because that isn't how you should learn those things about me.
Those things should not be readily available to anyone who has internet access. 

We've become very accustomed to sharing everything in our lives with anyone who will listen. Taking pictures of our food. Photographing our feet on random sidewalks. Stretching our arms out and pointing the camera at ourselves in front of anything even vaguely of interest. There is nothing wrong with that. I mean, I've got a Youtube channel where I love to post videos of my adventures. What I worry about is more than that: we share our opinions of everything. We comment what we're thinking and how we're feeling. We write paragraph after paragraph about our deepest thoughts and dreams. Should all that really just be out there?

The other day I was walking on the street and I overheard a girl saying "Some of my friends don't even have instagram. I mean, it's not like a deal breaker or anything but come on! What if I want to get to know you better?" It's worrying to me that we get to know each other through screens and it's dangerous too. On the internet I get to choose what I share or don't share. I could paint you a beautiful picture of who Hanna is and how great she is and all the fun stuff she does. But that isn't the full picture. That isn't really me. Certainly not all of me.

I suppose what I'm trying to say is this: if you want to get to know me, all of me, you're going to have to actually spend time with me. You're going to have to work at it. I need to know that you care enough about me to earn the stories of who I am. I need to trust that you will respect them. You won't get to know me through your screen but I'm more than happy to meet you for a face-to-face and a heart-to-heart. 

Take Time

Our world is pretty fast paced. We've become accustomed to getting things at the push of a button (or click of a mouse). We complain when we have to wait in a queue for even a few minutes. Or when the internet is ever so slightly slower than usual. I think we are slowly loosing our ability to appreciate the little things. We don't take time to just sit and enjoy a good song. We don't look up from our gadgets to see the beauty of the morning sky. We can't get off of Netflix long enough to wind down with a good book and a cup of cocoa. 

These past few weeks I've been making an effort to take time to appreciate the little things. I want to make sure that I actually take notice of the day as it unfolds rather than being focussed solely on what tasks I have planned to achieve. I know I'm not the first to do this and I know that it's not a revolutionary thing, but it has been making such a difference. Every evening I give myself at least an hour before bed: I light a candle, do a bit of journaling, play some music, or snuggle up with a book. I unplug and actually take time to enjoy my life. And it has given me so much more peace. I don't feel stressed, I don't feel like I'm busy every hour of every day.

I've noticed that by just taking a few minutes here and there throughout the day to appreciate the little things I've been able to feel so much more calm. It reminds me that life is so much more than constantly being on the go and always thinking about the next thing. Sometimes I want to share a moment with a student and really listen as they tell me a story. I want to take time to just sit and enjoy my lunch without marking at the same time. I want to enjoy the colours of the sky as the sun is going down even if I'm still at work. 

I know it can seem hard. You already feel like you don't have enough time in the day, let alone have extra time to stop and appreciate something as small as a good cup of coffee. But trust me, once you give yourself these moments to be thankful for these things you'll find that maybe you do have more time than you think.