The feeling of Advent
Advent. Waiting. Hope. Longing.
Few words fill me with as much peace, joy and anticipation as Advent. I love this time. Burning candles, the warmth of a fire. The scent of fir, pine, saffron and mulled wine. Christmas music. Christmas fun with the children. The beauty of every dark corner now being allowed to bathe in light and hope.
I like the feeling that in Advent we are at the beginning of something new, that there is an unspoken promise of a different time. That a whole new unlived year is waiting around the corner and that anything can happen, anything is possible. Everything can start over and become something different, something better. Maybe I need that feeling more than ever this year.
I am the incurable optimist. I always see the glass as half full. When it is darkest, I think that now it can only go up, move forward, get better. I always believe that the light in the tunnel is really a light – and not an oncoming train.
But I must admit that in recent months even my incurable optimism has taken a hit.
It has felt frustrating not being able to hug those you long to meet. Not being able to share a meal in the city without worry with people you like.
It's been depressing to only see colleagues via blurry Teams meetings and not be able to say "How are you" over a cup of coffee in the coffee room. It's been tricky to introduce new employees when all colleagues are working from home. And there's a lot of lack of creativity when everyone is sitting behind screens and you can't do post-it notes together.
At the same time, everyday life outside my little bubble has changed even more for many others.
“I always believe that the light in the tunnel is really a light – and not an oncoming train.”
People have become ill and had to spend a long time in rehab. Some have lost loved ones, others have lost their jobs or been laid off. People have had to count their pennies to keep their finances afloat. Entrepreneurs have lost assignments or lost their livelihoods completely. Conference halls around the country are empty, young people are not entering the labor market and the hotel and restaurant industry is on its knees. The world, everyday life and my life and that of others have become grayer, emptier, quieter and smaller in so many ways. But at the same time, my life has also become a little easier, the pace a little slower, the stress a little less.
This fall I have felt how my shoulders have slowly sunk down to where they should be. My gaze has suddenly been able to find a point to rest on far away on the horizon. I have been able to come outside and hear the birds chirping every day. And in some strange way my lungs have been filled with extra air. I want to keep that feeling even when what we are in right now is over.
I know that not everyone has had the opportunity to let their soul catch up this fall. I know that the friends who are in this house, Vår Gård, have had it tough, heavy and difficult in many ways these many, long months. I know that there has been worry and sadness, and uncertainty about what will happen. I know that resignation has tried to creep in.
But I also know that in times of crisis, we humans become focused on getting through it together, on coping with the ups and downs we face. We form a strong and confident leadership and wish each other and the business well. We strive to be even better, even prouder of what we do.
In times of crisis , you simply prepare yourself to be even stronger on the other side. That's exactly how it is here at Vår Gård .
I know that when the pandemic enters another phase and there is room to see each other again, the longing for a personal meeting, for an experience for both body and soul, will be at the top of people's wish lists. Then gems like Vår Gård will be ready to welcome all of us who long to talk, laugh, meet, travel, hug, eat, celebrate, touch and be touched again.
So this Advent I will hold on to one thought more tightly than any other. Every day that passes brings us one day closer to the end of what we are in the midst of right now. And every day that passes brings us one day closer to what awaits on the other side.
There is a new unlived year waiting around the corner and there everything is possible. Everything can start over and become something different, something better – if we want to. Because there is, after all, light at the end of the tunnel.
Take care of yourself and those close to you. More than anything, I wish you a magical Advent, in a time of waiting and hope.
Anna Wennerstrand, Head of Communications and Brand
Cooperative Federation Economic Association