I write this blog for several reasons. One is to keep my faraway friends updated about my life and doings. It is good to know that my friends in the US and UK and elsewhere can still keep an eye on my life if they care to do so. But another reason which is not any less important and why I like this blog thing is that it gives me an opportunity to create my own tiny world. I can choose the events I talk about, I can choose the perspective from which I'm looking at them, I can take pictures and post them, I can create something that wouldn't exist if I didn't write. And it is not just a one way street, my blog has also taught me to notice little things and appreciate them, and to appreciate people and events that come my way. I think I could say that although I created this blog, to some extent it has created me as well. We mutually affect each other.

But there's a danger to all of this 'choosing a perspective' thing. The danger is that I can become very one-sided and end up creating a distorted picture of my reality. I can leave out so many things and so many emotions - pick and choose - that my blog can present a picture that's actually far from reality.

For example. I could say a lot about last week.

On Wednesday morning I went to the Seminary's spring session. I didn't have any classes to teach this time but I wanted to use this time and opportunity to get away from the city and concentrate on my own academic work in a nice resort centre of Estonian Baptist church where they usually hold Seminary's May sessions. I was so ready to get my essay-turned-into-an-article done but when I got there, I realised I was in a desperate need of a break. So all my books and my computer stayed in my suitcase and basically all I did for three days was to sunbathe while the students sat in the classroom. (I must have been a terrible example of academic discipline lol!) I also had long conversations with the Seminary's principal. We have struck up a real friendship, it seems. It comes as a bit of a surprise for me because we are not very similar as to our characters. I'm a softy, she isn't. She's exceptionally sharp and intelligent and opinionated. But despite our differences, over the past months we have become close and have started to speak more and more about things that have nothing to do with our roles (as a principal and a leader of our conference's department of education). So on Wednesday after official and academia-related topics were exhausted (and while the students still sat in the classroom), we went for a ride, bought ice-cream and discussed topics embarrassingly girly. I also went swimming (water's freezing but swimable). I played board games with students late in the evening and kept the score when guys played volleyball during the breaks. I read my Bible. Slept. Ate.

Sounds like a good life.

But there's another side to the coin.

I could leave out the fact that I finally called a doctor last week and made an appointment to have my mental and emotional state checked. I can't cope with grief and loneliness any more and it has become very clear that I need help. At this point I don't know what kind of treatment is needed, whether I need to go and see a psychologist or a phychiatrist, whether I need therapy or medication. I'm hoping that good specialists will figure it out and help me. I could also leave out the fact that I am very scared of our conference's session which will take place in a month's time. As I have no life other than my work, I am overtly sensitive about all possible changes that might take place during that session. Some people see the conference session as a nuisance, some as an opportunity to rock the boat and 'do church politics'. They have no idea whatsoever how much is at stake for me. And I can't make a statement in the beginning of the session and say, 'Dear delegates, my work is my life. If you change things radically, if you vote for a new president and leadership team, if you choose to fill the departmental leaders positions which I have held for the last year with other people, you might actually take away my life from me.' It's as scary as hell. I could leave out the fact that I'm losing weight again. And I could also leave out the little fact that I had to leave the church hall tonight during our Mother's Day service (it's the Mother's Day here tomorrow) when a lady sang the most famous of Estonian Mother's Day songs, Mother's Heart. I rushed out, went downstairs, and wept alone in a dark room. Maybe that one I really should have left out.

One side of the coin in unbearably dark.

Spare a prayer for me.

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The Brilliance, May You Find a Light.