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 candle, the heat from a fire. The scent of spruce, pine, saffron and mulled wine. Christmas music. The Christmas rush with the children. The beauty of every dark corner is now allowed to swim in light and in hope.
I like the feeling that in Advent we are at the beginning of something new, that there is an unspoken promise of another time. That a whole new unlived year awaits around the corner and that anything can happen, anything is possible. Everything can start all over again and become something else, something better. Maybe I need that feeling more than ever this year.
I am the incurable optimist. Always sees the glass as half full. When it's darkest, I think that now it can only go up, move forward, get better. I always think 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 turn for the worse.
It has felt daunting not to be able to hug those you long to meet. Not being able to carelessly share a meal in town with people you like.
It has been depressing to only see colleagues via blurred Teams meetings and not be able to say "How are you" over a cup in the coffee room. It has been tricky to introduce newly hired employees when all colleagues work at home. And it lacks a lot in creativity when everyone is behind screens and you can not dabble post it notes together.
At the same time, everyday life outside my little bubble has changed even more for many others.
"I always think that the light in the tunnel is really a light - and not an oncoming train."
People have become ill and have had to spend a long time with rehab. Some have lost loved ones, others have lost their jobs or been laid off. People have had to count the pennies to get the economy going. Entrepreneurs have lost assignments or lost the opportunity to earn a living completely. Conference halls around the country echo empty, young people do not enter the labor market and the hotel and restaurant industry is on its knees. The world, everyday life and my and others' lives have become grayer, emptier, quieter and smaller in so many ways. But at the same time, my life has also become a bit easier, the pace a little slower, the stress a little less.
This fall, I have felt how my shoulders have slowly sunk to where they should be. The gaze has suddenly been able to find a point to rest on far away on the horizon. I have come out and been able to hear the chirping of birds every day. And in some strange way, the 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 souls catch up this autumn. 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 anxiety and sadness, and uncertainty about what will happen. I know that despair has tried to sneak in.
But I also know that in times of crisis, we humans become focused on coping with it together, on coping with the uphills we encounter. We form a strong and secure leadership and want each other and the business well. We strive to be even better, even prouder of what we do.
In times of crisis , you simply get ready to be even stronger on the other side. This is exactly what is happening here at Vår Gård .
I know that when the pandemic enters another phase and there is room to see again, the longing for the personal meeting, for an experience for both body and soul, will be at the top of people's wish list. Then pearls like Vår Gård will be ready to receive all of us who long to talk, laugh, meet, travel, hug, eat, celebrate, touch and be touched again.
So this Advent I will stick to one thought harder than any other. With each passing day, we come one day closer to the end of what we are in the middle of right now. And with each passing day, we get one day closer to what is waiting on the other side.
There is a new unlived year waiting around the corner and everything is possible there. Everything can start all over again and become something else, something better - if we want to. Because there is, after all, light in the tunnel.
Take care of yourself and those close to you. I wish you more than anything else a magical Advent, in the time of waiting and hope.
Anna Wennerstrand, Head of Communications and Brand
Cooperative Association Economic Association