It’s another cold autumn day. The gorgeous colors are still here but the temperatures are going down so quickly that I had to go through the closets to find my gloves. After school my sons and I find refuge by the fire place, adoring the flames on the sun dried birch logs. Sometimes this time of the year makes me feel like a mom cat with kittens. And I can’t stop wondering how those two who are always on the go, curl up next to me and are all prepared to do nothing for the whole evening. Just two weeks ago I wasn’t able to convince them to wear shoes or to stay put even for half an hour. And now we are gradually entering the hibernation mode.
My youngest goddaughter had her first birthday on Saturday. She had just learned how to walk and how to use the spoon. Suddenly a baby had turned into a toddler. There is something most captivating in the wobbly first steps and the persistence in practice. The urge to discover and conquer, to learn and to challenge yourself. Just a few weeks ago my son announced that he had learned to read. I have never before seen him so happy in relief. It was his greatest fear that he would never learn how to read, and there was no way of convincing him otherwise. He has been practicing all autumn ever since he started the first grade and books have always been his greatest passion. Now that the clog has been removed there is no end to spelling. Road signs, cereal boxes, t-shirts and caps. Joy of learning like fireworks in the sky.
On the way to my goddaughter’s party I heard a fascinating interview on the radio. It was one of the most famous authors in Finland, called Tuomas Kyrö, who was interviewed about writing and being a writer. The interviewer asked him what inspires him the most to writing. He burst out in heartfelt laughter and said that inspiration is a myth. That nothing comes to anyone without hard work. In order to write a novel, one has to write and write and write. And then gradually the story starts to take form. For him, just to sit and wait for an inspiration would be ludicrous and a waste of time. I have to agree. And isn’t that the most comforting thought as well?