JavaScript is disabled in your web browser or browser is too old to support JavaScript. Today almost all web pages contain JavaScript, a scripting programming language that runs on visitor's web browser. It makes web pages functional for specific purposes and if disabled for some reason, the content or the functionality of the web page can be limited or unavailable.
Vieraskieliset / In-english

Blog: Opening the door of my writing chamber

Vieraskieliset / In-english
2.3.2020 6.50

Juttua muokattu:

30.1. 13:42

”Many thanks for sen­ding yo­ur samp­le blog text to Päi­vä­mies! We would like to in­vi­te you to start as a new on­li­ne blog­ger.”

I was so hap­py to read this email from the edi­tor of Päi­vä­mies. I humb­ly ac­cep­ted my new task.

I had no­ti­ced a few weeks ear­lier that new blog­gers were being rec­rui­ted for Päi­vä­mies. When I read the ad, I felt a small jolt in­si­de me. Would I dare to try? I left the pa­per open on the work­top, won­de­ring if it would call out to me la­ter. Yet, I clo­sed the pa­per a few days la­ter. No, this was not for me.

But when anot­her week had pas­sed, I be­gan to won­der if I could still find the is­sue of Päi­vä­mies with the rec­ruit­ment ad. I found it, tore out the ad and pos­ted it on the door of the frid­ge. I sec­ret­ly ho­ped one of the fa­mi­ly mem­bers would en­cou­ra­ge me and say, “Mom, why don’t you start wri­ting a blog?”

None of them said anyt­hing. I won­der if they even no­ti­ced the ad among all the im­por­tant no­tes on the frid­ge door. Right now, there are two den­tal ap­point­ments, one ad­d­ress of friends, al­to­get­her 23 mag­nets of our 10 kids, one week­ly sche­du­le that we have for­got­ten to fill in, one Mot­her’s Day card, a coup­le of dra­wings, and se­ve­ral unof­fi­ci­al-loo­king check­lists for va­ri­ous pur­po­ses.

I thought about the Päi­vä­mies blogs I had read. Of­ten, when I had star­ted re­a­ding one blog, I just went on re­a­ding one af­ter anot­her, be­cau­se they were all so good. I felt em­po­we­red by the blogs of mot­hers that I could ea­si­ly iden­ti­fy with. It was eye-ope­ning to read about the world of so­me­o­ne in a dif­fe­rent life si­tu­a­ti­on. I al­so paid at­ten­ti­on to the style of wri­ting. Did the wri­ters use stan­dard lan­gu­a­ge or spo­ken lan­gu­a­ge? Were they fac­tu­al or pla­ying with fan­ta­sy? So many dif­fe­rent texts, all of them so in­te­res­ting. So skil­l­ful­ly writ­ten!

The rough­ly torn ad from the pa­per was still on the door of the frid­ge, and I of­ten glan­ced at it in pas­sing. I would have li­ked to send in a samp­le text, but then again I felt I would not be a sui­tab­le per­son to write a blog. I had a draft text re­a­dy in my mind, but the thres­hold to send it was high.

I have been wri­ting all my life, re­cor­ding my ref­lec­ti­ons of life on the pa­ges of my di­a­ry. My first text was about a doll cal­led Eli­na. It was a fic­ti­ve story writ­ten in block let­ters with sen­ten­ces that cur­ved down­ward as the story con­ti­nu­ed. “Eli­na, just ima­gi­ne if I were Mary and you were baby Je­sus. I would be ter­rib­ly wor­ried when He­rod would try to kill you.” I was pro­ces­sing the emo­ti­ons arou­sed by a fa­mi­li­ar Bib­le story through wri­ting. I have con­ti­nu­ed to do so un­til to­day. Call it wri­ting the­ra­py.

Things of­ten set­t­le in­to a sto­ry­li­ne se­qu­en­ce in my mind. So did the mi­ra­cu­lous mat­ter that re­cent­ly hap­pe­ned: I was ac­cep­ted to study he­alth scien­ce, which had been my big­gest dream in life. It see­med un­be­lie­vab­le that I could start stu­dying just now when the ma­ter­ni­ty le­a­ve for my tenth child en­ded. The sche­du­le had been set up by the He­a­ven­ly Fat­her, I am sure.

I pro­ces­sed this won­der­ful mat­ter in­to a story in the wri­ting the­ra­py cham­ber of my brain. One day, half­way through comp­le­ting an as­sign­ment on di­gi­tal he­alth care, I wrote out the story and sent it to the rec­rui­ting edi­tor.

And here I am, wri­ting my first blog post. I hope that you, dear re­a­der, can re­la­te to my texts. Ma­y­be you can iden­ti­fy with them, draw peer sup­port from them, or be ins­pi­red by them. Most of all, I hope I can bring some joy to yo­ur life.

Text: Suvi Myl­ly­mä­ki

Trans­la­ti­on: Sirk­ka-Lii­sa Lei­no­nen

You will find the ori­gi­nal blog post here.


Käänny puoleeni; Herra, ja ole minulle armollinen, sillä minä olen yksin ja avuton. Ps. 25:16

Viikon kysymys