Saying goodbye to the year with Jane Austen

There is nothing like feeling grateful to life at the end of the year for all the good it has brought—and with good health. Landing my dream job as a researcher and being able to live in a city that I truly love, Bilbao. I cannot fully put that feeling into words, but it is very similar to having won the jackpot, especially when I look back and remember that none of the decisions we make come with any guarantees. Sometimes, no matter how strongly we wish for a thing, it simply does not happen. Other times, life surprises you and smiles back.

On top of the chaos of everyday life, being close to turning thirty can become a particularly sensitive moment — a point at which important decisions pile up: where do I want to live? where do I want to take my career? do I want to have children? does the idea of getting married make sense to me? should I open a TikTok account? The last one is a no-brainer, it’s always going to be a no. These are questions that can feel overwhelming, and yet there is no sign we can hang on our backs for everyone to read: “Temporarily on autopilot mode—back when I’ve made up my mind. Thanks for understanding”. Life keeps moving forward. 

In the midst of all this, it is essential to have a space that brings us calm. For some time now, I have found that in the idea of romanticizing the countryside: wide meadows, nature, walks in the rain (when we were children, Heidi was on TV—perhaps that has something to do with it). I was lucky enough to grow up in a village, and that image of calmness is easily accessible in my mind, by imagining the nature reserve where I was raised, Urdaibai.

The thought of my village that brings me so much joy, has also been reflected in my social media. My trips to the UK, especially to the Cotswolds, and the rural-living accounts I follow, as if they were reflecting what it would be like if Jane Austen were alive, my feed has been filled with images that move me—especially at Christmas, with the lights and decorations. Watching videos of cottages, with the fire lit and the living room full of festive details, feels more like something I would love to make a reality one day.

This longing has also been fuelled by my attachment to the UK when I was sent there to study English during the summers. Perhaps because my parents thought that one school year was not quite enough, and that in the summer I would prefer the rain and wind of Swansea to enjoying the beaches of the Basque Country. I have had the opportunity to live in different parts of UK, although for relatively short periods. The second longest stay was four months in London, where I wrote this post under the typical English greeting. Since then, my trips to old England have not stopped, and with each one I have been gathering ideas—just in case I never get the chance to live in a UK cottage… or in case that dream ends up finding me and I can live it with the approval of a true country local. Or, if all else fails, perhaps some of the British wit and irony will rub off on me.

Slowing down the pace of life, enjoying simplicity and routine, saving for the ideas running through my head, and being able to afford trips that inspire me and help clarify the kind of life I want to lead are goals I would like to achieve next year; otherwise, as Jane Austen said in Mansfield Park, “Life seems but a quick succession of busy nothings”.