Ring out, wild bells

"Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
   The flying cloud, the frosty light:
   The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. "

--Tennyson



On New Year's Eve, one of Sweden's traditions is a Swedish reading of Tennyson's poem, In Memoriam, on national TV.  It's the ideal New Year poem; ringing bells to beckon in the good, flush out the bad, and give cause to hope.

2012 was an eventful year for me. I visited three new countries, moved to Korea, spent hours lost on busses and subways, made great friends, changed jobs, said goodbye to new friends, explored a foreign culture, got bruised from kickball, took on too many languages, ate jellyfish legs, learned yoga, got a cat, saw two babies come into the world via Facebook (no, not live), discovered that I can almost deal with cold weather, learned new recipes, made friends online, taught my kids to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, joined a band, got a smartphone, cut my own hair (x2), bought clothes without trying them on, survived a typhoon, discovered tights, joined a writer's group, went to a mud festival, calmed way down about flying, experienced a New Moon party on a beach in Thailand, celebrated the New Year in Hong Kong, got into Ted Talks, developed an English/Korean/hand gesture language with my co-teacher, ate a lot of pasta and banana milk shakes, and turned a quarter of a century old.

I almost wish I had numbers for you: the average amount of times I have return to my apartment because I've forgotten something, the amount of pounds of rice I've eaten in Korea, the number of bus rides I've taken, the number of times per day that I bow in greeting or thanks, the number of photos I've taken, of times I've told my kids to speak English, of shrugs I've made when people have commented on my weight, of impromptu songs sung with Asrune, of times I've tried to explain where I'm from...

The desire to quantify is simply the journalist in me who I can never quite stomp down -- always support with authority and numbers.  In this case, it's better to leave things nebulous; the best things in life can't be quantified.  (Seriously, Bhutan. with your index of happiness).

**

This year I shall say goodbye to my two homes of the past few years; my family's elegant apartment in Ostermalm, and my own little studio in Bongilcheon.  There is always a sadness and nostalgia surrounding goodbyes, but in this case, there is also great anticipation for the future.  Future adventures, locations, ideas, loves, books, foods, stories.  Stories.  My own and others.

Strandvagen, Stockholm

Seoul