Spring, without the mask

There’s something to love about the 4 seasons. There’s always something to look forward to… and then most of the time they just arrive, like in this case, spring.

This year, the spring equinox has emerged as an important date for me for the first time. I’ve never really paid attention to it before, but I’ve always found it cooler than New Year’s Eve. Now I also find solace in what it symbolizes: that brief moment in the year when day and night are equal. No one wins, there’s a balance, and from that balance comes the brighter season. It’s not as dramatic as midnight, that’s for sure! It is not as loud without fireworks shooting into the sky, but it‘s still very much there.

This month, five years after I started working in the kindergarten, I’m saying goodbye. It’s not my original calling, but working with children, teaching English and arts has become a significant chapter in my life. Now I feel like it’s right to move on, it’s natural that the next step will come.

When I moved here, during Covid, there wasn't really an option to find a job elsewhere with just English, but this opportunity came up, so I was able to start working a few months after moving.

The first picture is from that time, and the other black and white portrait was taken recently, during the last months spent here. The contrast is not about an extreme transformation, but rather about the natural passage of time.

The inscription on the red gate is: ‘Art washes the dust of everyday life from the soul.’ Pablo Picasso. I used to walk past it regularly at my previous apartment and it still gives me the mood. (Since it became known to the general public how he behaved with his muses, we could even call it a lynching mood.)

The Nobody Counts sticker is a funny version of the name of an old favorite band of mine, Body Count, but we can also discover a lot of truth in it if we choose to do so. Many people probably won’t agree with this, but it still made me think not to put anyone before myself. Even on a plane, you have to save yourself first before you can help others, right?

And now here's a slightly longer story that you can learn from and then you don't have to make the same mistake.

This journey was not mine alone, nor is it entirely my merit to have gotten this far. The quiet but sure support of the people closest to me has helped me a lot more than I sometimes felt, as I mentioned last time.

There are additional layers to this story, so it's sweet of me to promise not to air the laundry, but... HAHA. As the Hungarian saying goes: now the monkey jumps into the water.

While my mind told me that I was fine considering the circumstances (I still honestly believe that I am fine), my body had its own language. In recent months, a significant part of my health has been consumed by the fight I am engaged in as a 40+ year old who is starting over again. Again. Among other things, a severe allergic flare-up has returned. For example, eczema, which has been a part of my life since childhood, has come back into focus intensely. I also had a vitamin D deficiency and a little hypothyroidism and I have other problems with all sorts of symptoms that have been under investigation for 2 years now. Until now, they said it was just my age, but now it turns out that chronic stress caused things in many cases.

This is not a new struggle either. Over the years, there have been dermatologists, alternative approaches, serious professionals and less serious ones. My family and I have invested time, money, hope and energy in trying to “fix” it. Of course, the environment also plays a role... The air in downtown Vienna is not oceanic. Natural hormonal changes also appear after the age of 40. And the changes in my personal life caused emotional stress. A workplace full of allergens can contributed to this, but I'm sure someone else could go on and on and on as well. Many small factors that would have been easy to treat on their own were now being more difficult together.

In all this madness, I realized something really unpleasant: I was so busy listening to other diagnoses that I forgot to listen to my body and especially my soul. I wanted to rest and finally be alone, to think about what I wanted, but instead I let and sometimes still let other people's things take my focus away from me. I spent my energy solving other people's problems and from time to time I tried to compulsively deal with things that I thought would help me feel better. What I didn't fully understand was that when tension, overload and imbalance accumulate over years, it takes time for the system to calm down. The body doesn't rush just because the mind decides it's ready.

I often feel as if my mind and body are not always in the same dialogue. One looks ahead, plans, remains optimistic, the other quietly signals, through inflammation, fatigue, resistance. It took me time to accept that momentary joy is not enough. Sustainable solutions require patience and time.

Beyond my personal life, there is the broader atmosphere. I don’t want to get into the whole world‘s business now, because then there would be no end to what I write, but there is, for example, the political tension in Hungary, the upcoming elections, the collective uncertainty, everything that seeps in even if we try to keep it out. Whether we like it or not, it affects us. It affects our family, our friends, and our nervous system.

I am also learning not to let it consume me. There are certainly all kinds of challenges waiting for the country, that’s true or the whole globe in general. But not every wave of tension has to pass directly through my body. There will always be something to worry about, but I can choose with the same amount of energy to look for what helps me in my daily life. And if my environment consistently prevents this, maybe I don’t have to transform myself to fit in, but the environment has to change.

My only reliable compass is the relationship I have built with myself. If something hasn’t felt right for a long time, no amount of effort will magically put it in the right place. This is one of my earliest realizations, and while it may not be as dramatic as it seems at first glance, it does clarify things.

I’m not expecting miracles from 2026 (I expect them from life itself), but I’m hoping for persistence. That I’ll build something sustainable instead of reacting to every change. I’m still learning to find balance, to listen to what my body is telling me. I’m listening to when I feel tired and when I feel joy. We don’t have to solve everything at once. We don’t really have to prove anything, so don’t rush. Real change is rarely loud, but at least it’s often permanent.

If there’s one thing I’ve become more certain of, it’s this: an uncomfortably honest relationship with yourself is the real lasting foundation. From there, I can make decisions, move forward, and even change direction.

Let me know what you think of this longer version. Until then, take care of yourself!

Ivett