What would we be without inspiration? Every season has their own way of inspiring me, may it be the summery hues of blue eternal freedom, autumnal oranges and reds (my favourite), the glitter and shine of Christmas, the cold, clean slate of winter, or the blossoming promises of spring. 

If you remember, I did an Autumn Bucket List (you can also read the update here), and decided to do something similar for spring. Watching a Darling Desi Youtube video, I felt inspired to copy her idea for a bingo-inspired spring list (she does it for summer and has four columns, like actual Bingo sheets do, I think). The great thing about self-made bucket lists and bingo sheets is that you can choose activities you will actually do - so, as it's already late April, let's dive in and see what I've already accomplished. 

Note: A bucket list should never add to your stress - don't make yourself miserable not completing your sheet or list - remember, the next spring will certainly come around ;-) 

Yes, yes, yes, I know, autumn technically lasts well into September, but let's be honest ... the moment November stretches his tender fingers, we start humming Christmas songs and winter is literally coming (Game of Thrones reference intended). 

So, let's update the Autumn Bucket List, cut my losses, celebrate my wins, and make space for my Christmas list.

You can find the original Autumn Bucket List here, with all my goals and intentions. 

It is October! I can't believe September is already over. I can never wait for the -ber months to start, as autumn and the Christmas time are, by far, my favourite time of the year. September usually kicks off autumn with a crisp edge in the air and the unmistakable back-to-Hogwarts vibes. Sadly, this year, September was summery and warm and we've barely had any autumnal days yet. The trees are still very green and all my autumnal sweaters rot in my closet. 

Now that October has commenced, I really want to get into autumn spirit, regardless the weather.  October is for me all things spooky and pumpkin. I love the orangeness of October, the warmth interspersed with the spookiness of cold grey and black. 

As November is almost Christmas-time already, I often feel autumn is really just September and October, so I really want to make the most of them. This year I have compiled an "Autumn Bucket List" to help me really embrace the season, and while autumn started almost two weeks ago, I only now came round to posting this. I hope I can do all of the things on my bucket list, but anything I can't do this year will instantly go on next-year's autumn bucket list, so let's delve in. 

OK, let's talk about assholes. No, I don't mean people who are behaving rudely, but actual buttholes. This blog isn't for anyone who has the mindset of a Victorian lady, as there will be a detailed description of how I managed to get a persistent and awfully painful anal fissure under control. Some might now think, "Hey, Angie, cheers, but that's too much information." But I disagree. Sadly, we still don't talk about butt pains and many people suffer in silence. I, also, felt disgusted by myself because I had this anal issue, and felt alone with it. Only when I stumbled upon this forum did I realise that many more women were suffering from the same thing - often having it for decades without getting any real help from doctors. 

And this is why I am sharing it here, even though it might seem like an awfully intimate issue. Maybe you're suffering from a fissure, maybe you will in the future, maybe you never will but have other issues. I just know that I got an issue under control that seemed to completely overtake my life - and should you suffer from the same, I wouldn't want you to suffer simply for a lack of information, so here I am sharing my therapy with you. #
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But first, I'm going to tell you my whole dreadful story with it. If you just want to skip down to the healing part, you can do so, of course.   

When the first - and harshest - lockdown hit Austria in March 2020, there was a call for young writers to contribute to a collection of texts on how the pandemic affected their lives. 
Scrolling through old documents of mine, I recently unearthed the text I contributed back then, titled On The Freedom Of Birds. It has an almost eerie feeling to read it now, knowing how it all unfolded, I was pregnant with Lily back then, still working, and we'd just moved to a little village in the mountains.  Re-reading this text made me realise why I love writing so much. It is like a little shrine dedicated to the first lockdown, a memory made permanent with ink and paper (or my laptop and Drive). It's almost two years now since writing it, and I wanted to share it here with you as well (as it is not available anymore on the original source). 

On the Freedom of Birds
 
Tyrol, Austria
 
There is this statement that if people continue behaving the way we do, many species may be extinct within the next century or so, whereas if we were extinct, the world would flourish and bud. I don’t know any more exactly what the exact numbers given in the statement were, but it is rather irrelevant for this journal entry. The gist is that humans deplete the world we live in and without us everything else would be much better off. It’s a sad truth, but everything we’ve done in the past, well, since we’ve evolved pretty much, indicates the verity of said statement.

I am writing these lines sitting in my home office in Tyrol, one of the regions worst affected by the corona virus in Europe, and am watching the birds outside as they bicker over the first buds on a cherry tree. Their chirping is undisturbed, their minds not shrouded by a worldwide pandemic, all they can think about is the task ahead of picking out the seeds. While we all sit trapped inside, slowly incarcerated by our minds and economic dependence, life outside seems to continue, even thrive, some may argue.
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I live in a ski resort region where tourism in the winter is key – one reason why we became one of the epicentres for corona in Europe, for putting the economy over safety and people’s wellbeing. Until recently, there was a major lightshow and fireworks once a week on the snow slopes to entertain tourists and celebrate the lavish economy factor known as winter sport. Ignoring the major distress such actions put on the forest animals around, they, at least, can breathe a sigh of relief now, probably perplexed by the sudden stillness that reigns over their woods and fields, only disturbed once or twice during the day by a rambler who needs to escape the confinements of his prison (but always within at least a few metres distance to the next rambler).

Despite the non-arguable horrors the virus has inflicted on many people, I cannot help but feel a little smug about it, too. There we are, humans, so arrogant, so superior to everyone else, exploiting where we can, taking and taking and taking from the resources around us. And, BAM, one little disease that is laughable compared to pandemics like the Black Death, and we are all trapped inside our houses, dependent on an economy system that serves itself more than it serves the people. Birds continue to fly, deer continue to roam, dogs continue to sniff – all in perfect oblivion and we reap what we’ve sown.

I don’t want to sound rude or mean to offend people who have been hit hard by the circumstances, but I cannot help thinking this is a massive opportunity to re-evaluate so many issues we’ve faced as a species in the past decades. Outdated school and work systems, an economy system that is so frail it cannot sustain itself apparently (or so we will see), overworked medical staff and shortages that can mean death or life for people. In short, as a community we seem to put money and the economic stability ahead of people, which can be best seen by countries all over the world where measures weren’t taken in time in order to protect tourism and the economy.

Maybe this can be a chance to put importance back on family relations, how we can behave towards each other, and which shouldn’t be put ahead. I am not saying such institutions as economy aren't important, but the birds fluttering outside my window are entirely unencumbered by the virus and the consequences it will have on human-made systems…maybe it’s at least an incentive to take something away from that.

It's been roughly a year since we moved from Vienna to a picturesque village in one of Tyrol's many valleys. I am not a village-compatible person, I'm afraid. One year in, I have failed to start conversations with the folk, which I tell myself is because of corona - but I know the truth deep within. It's because it's almost impossible to "get in" to a Tyrolean village.

There are some bespoke customs, days, even daytimes you only understand when you've been "indoctrinated" with the folks' customs from very early on. Ways to speak, how to greet, whom to avoid, when to greet - every little piece of code the villagers are intrinsically aware of is a mountainous task to master for everyone looking in from the outside. Unspoken rules, rituals and customs rattle your everyday life, as you fail to grasp why the marching band is playing now at five am in front of your window. Why the children don their finest clothes, or who has mowed their lawn on a Sunday. 

I don't mean to be condescending or disrespectful - it's just like being thrown in a jungle without knowing the rules, without knowing how things are done. And with a very little radius for gossip to travel, you know your fail to grasp the village concept may be living room gossip in a day or two. 

I believe it's fair to say that the coronavirus hardly left anyone untouched. Whether it impacted you directly because you suffered from the disease or Long Covid, or even lost someone to the deadly virus; whether you've lost your job, your company closed, or you simply couldn't go to work for a few months, like my dad, for example. The impacts of the pandemic were global and, in many instances, harsh. Isolation, financial insecurity, health issues, resulting mental issues, and so on and so forth...it was surely not an easy time for most of us. 

And yet...I also want to look at the positive impacts the pandemic had on my life. This is a personal account and I don't mean to diminish the suffering others have experienced. It just occurred to me and my husband that, ultimately, we both benefitted more from the pandemic than we suffered. 

I am quite a restless person. It's difficult for me for things to stand still, my mind to quieten and to stay at home. Before I got pregnant and the pandemic hit, I used to be in a constant flutter, nervous to be still for too long, not wanting to deal with my issues, joy-threatening thoughts and future prospects. After finding out I was pregnant, a part of me worried about not being able to find calm and quieten my mind for the pregnancy and once the baby was here. I didn't want to be a mum who dragged her child everywhere because she couldn't be alone with her thoughts. 

In the course of my pregnancy, I did lots of things to quieten my mind - meditation, visualisation, breathing techniques, the works. However, what ultimately helped me was the enforced lockdown in March 2020 when the whole world, it seemed, came to a standstill. There were no aeroplanes, no cars, the village to which we'd just moved had become quiet - the only soundtrack composed by twittering birds, some ambling villagers and the odd tractor in the distance. Apart from the obvious benefits for the environment, this new setting was also incredibly healing for my own mind. There was no possibility of distraction - no bars, cafes, cinemas, shops, not even family gatherings. Everything was still. 

It was during this time that I first managed to quieten my mind. That the hectic little people in my head stopped dancing for once and I embraced being home. It is something I have returned to struggle with, but now that I know what it feels like, it is a place to return, not to find. 

Another factor in which the pandemic played into my hands was my choice of therapist. Shortly before I found out I was pregnant, I chose to see a psychotherapist. I was in a very low point in my life and didn't know how to be happy anymore. However, I started therapy in Vienna, and a few weeks after we decided to move to Tirol, in the west of Austria. Had it not been for the pandemic, I would have had to choose a different therapist, as therapists are usually not allowed to do online sessions. This may sound trivial, but for me the change of therapist would have meant starting from step one again. The almost two years of therapy have helped me incredibly to overcome some of my issues - or at least to name them so I can work on them. I am grateful that I could end the journey with the same therapist I started it with. 

​When Lily was born, life was almost back to normal. It was August, everything was open - and yet, there were strict Covid procedures at the hospitals. Regardless the severity of the situation, I have always criticised hospitals not letting husbands join the birth of their baby. I think it's cruel for both parents. As a birthing mother, you need support - from your husband or any other person you choose to take with you. As a father, you have the right to be present when your baby is born - pandemic yes or no. 

Thankfully, Jakob was allowed to attend the birth and could stay far longer than the allocated visiting hours; however, he was the only one allowed to visit. While I can understand that it was hard for my family to not see Lily in the first days, I cannot deny that it was a precious time, just the three of us in the hospital. Giving birth is quite overwhelming for most mothers, I assume (it certainly was for me), and the calm after the storm is a far more precious concept than I feel most consider. 

Lily's first six months were more or less spent in lockdown. I couldn't drag her to any classes or many outings, for which I am grateful. I know it sounds selfish to be thankful for a pandemic imposing on me the calm to stay at home with my little baby, but that's just how it was for me. My restless self, once more, could find the calm I probably wouldn't have mustered so well in normal times. Jakob, again, was working lots from home during Lily's first six months, which was great for the bond between them. Also, I had much more help with cooking, laundry and the general workings of the household. 

Finally, now that everything opens up again. I am grateful that I can appreciate the crowds and happenings much more. I feel I am in a better place to show Lily the wonders of the world because, due to the lockdowns, they are somewhat marvellous to me too again. ​

With people reeling over data security issues left, right and centre (are you annoyed with people using Signal, too?), it is worth reconsidering your data privacy settings and how you can protect your personal data better. Especially as a blogger and keen social medialist (is it a word??), I sometimes want to share a little on such topics; however, I had to learn these things the hard way, too, and am no expert. So, I am happy to share a guest post from TurnOnVPN here in which you find succinct and helpful tips to get your privacy data secured. 

Whether an individual everyday user or an enterprise, data security, and privacy should be important to you.
With every passing day comes some tech to reduce the level of privacy that we enjoy on the internet. It could be browser fingerprinting, IP address tracking, intelligent cookie tracking, hacker attempts, or something else. Now is a good time to learn how to take control back into your own hands.
 
Know Phishing Signs
Phishing attacks are the most successful social hacks because of how they leverage user trust to work.
Whenever you get a message, email or call from a supposed company that you are affiliated with, beware of giving out sensitive information. Instead, go to their official websites/pages and initiate a customer service request to know if they truly reached out. Avoid clicking on links in emails too. Instead, type the official company address in your web browser by yourself.
Speaking of web browsers…

There is no doubt that the coronavirus did not have massively positive impact on the lives of most people - even though I did also experience some positive effects from the pandemic. However, one globally positive impact was definitely how people behaved during this winter season and how little the flu (remember the good old flu) played a role this season. Maybe, just maybe, we've learnt how to keep the curve low on other viral diseases as well and learn for the future - but more on that on the guest post by Patriot Medical Devices. 

I've always hated January. The drab weather, the biting cold and the Christmas cheer over. I used to cling to my Christmas tree until February when it was more of a dry stump than a festive decorative item and spent the month wailing for the month to be over. 

Part of why I always hated January was also school-related. In secondary school January is the month where Christmas-hungover teachers squeeze in the last tests before the term ends; and in university it is the month in which all exams take place - as if the month wasn't depressing enough. Coupled with fog weighing down, darkness wrapping up the land and a bitter-cold chill cascading through the streets, it was the perfect recipe for a deep-seated depressive episode. 

Even after I graduated from school and uni, the month never managed to fully pick up and be anything else than the most depressive time of the year, but this year I have a plan to make it less daunting and more enjoyable - yes, you read correctly, I am attempting to bring light into the darkest of the month, and do you know how I will attempt to do it? By embracing the darkness and not moaning about it. ​