186

 Everyday life

My partner and I found two plants in the recycling area. Perhaps someone didn't want them or could not keep them. In the past few years I've moved a lot and lived in four countries. Every time I moved, I couldn't take with me the plants I lived with. Maybe another human was in the same situation. When I moved from England to Sweden, my ex partner kept the plants, but on all the other occasions I had to find a new home for the plants. 

When my partner and I moved in together, we welcomed a couple of plants into our home. For me it felt like a big decision to invite those beings into our space. Every time I left behind the plants I lived with, I didn't feel good about it. In fact it felt awful. I see them as fellow beings. I took a cutting from one of the plants we found in the recycling area. Hopefully it will grow some roots.

At times I notice that people throw away some items that could serve someone else. Not far from the area where I live in Copenhagen there is a place where people can bring the items they don't want and can take whatever they need. I wish it was more normal to give away, exchange and share. There are such spaces on social media, but personally I never use them. To me it feels much more comfortable to engage in such activities with the people in my community or social circle because then it's not a one-off occasion of giving or sharing, but rather something that is ongoing. For example, with my partner we share the most. 

The chair in the picture below my partner has had for many years, 20 or so. He brought it into our new home. On the chair there's my (or our) cotton net bag. I use these bags for so many things, such as laundry, vegetables, and as handbags. Using these bags instead of conventional handbags normalises simplicity. They are inexpensive compared to fashion and status handbags, and likely also use less resources. Of course they don't protect anything from the rain, but I notice that none of the items I usually carry with me need protection. I use a backpack when I need to take my laptop with me. 

185

 Struggles no one is seeing when they are reading your book 

I've been contemplating writing this entry for a while. I've made all my autoethnographic data public because I strongly believe in transparency of research. But still some aspects of being feel extremely private. Then I decided to write it anyway. Oftentimes, I write about either the material aspects of being or how I relate with nature/cosmos. The material aspects of being relate with my desire to explore living with a lot less than what is the norm in our society. I try to live sustainably via experimenting with zero-waste, minimalism and extreme minimalism, no flying, and so on. All these practices, I believe, arise from a different mode of relating with nature/cosmos, feeling oneness with it and love towards it. 

More recently I wrote about other aspects of being, such as experiencing harassment from a manager. My mental health suffered a lot, and the university still haven't resolved this situation. I was also thinking about other struggles. About emotions, feelings, and even physical pain. I was contemplating these things together with the process of writing my book and how they affect this process. When one is reading a book, they probably don't know what the author was going through at the time of writing. 

In my book I mention my relationship a few times. Because I write in a place-based manner, to me it was important to highlight my own connection with the place, despite the book's main subject being business. In this case the place is Denmark. Apart from job insecurity accompanying my writing (caused by the manager's harassment), my relationship is not entirely happy. My relationship is something that connects me and Denmark, apart from my interest in the Nordic context. 

My partner and I have been together for 4 months. We were in a long-distance relationship for the majority of that time, and only recently moved in together. In some domains, our life together is beautiful. We love each other. Our home is beginning to look cosy. We also work together, and have co-authored several works, including a book about degrowth transformations. 

And yet there is another side to our relationship that makes me doubt that it is sustainable. My partner has a child from his previous relationship. He shares his childcare responsibilities with his ex-partner somewhat equally, which feels fair and reasonable. Mondays, Wednesdays, Saturdays and every other Friday are "his" days when he takes care of his child. Tuesdays, Thursdays, Sundays, and the other Fridays are "our" days when his ex-partner takes care of the child. Because both of us work, we have only Tuesday and Thursday evenings, sometimes Friday evenings and Sundays. At times we can work from home, so we spend a bit more time together. Before we moved in together, I thought this arrangement would work for me, but it does not. Most of the time our relationship feels abstract to me: I know that we have it but we spend very little time together. I don't have children, and neither does my partner want to have children with me. This relationship feels like a half-relationship. I haven't met the child. My partner and I decided that it's best to wait. I tend to agree, as I also would not want to walk into the child's life while I am having doubts about being in a relationship with the child's parent. 

It's also not been a goal in my life to have children. I am anxious about the state of the world, about ecological degradation. I don't feel I've settled yet, as I just recently relocated to yet another country after living in three countries in the past few years. I don't feel that I have a good support network. If I had a child, I would feel like I'm on my own. I wouldn't know which language to speak to a child as there is no language I speak perfectly. My own childhood was not very happy. We had everything and lived in a very beautiful area for many years, but there was no love and understanding. At times I think I would be a good mother. But I personally wouldn't want to be a single mother. 

I came to terms with the possibility that I will never have children in my life. I've focused on other things such as love towards nature, personal growth, empowering fellow humans (e.g., my students), exploring something I feel passionate about as a researcher. I love children as my fellow humans. But considering my own path, I am not sure about being a stepmother or playing a significant role in another child's life. I feel bad about not being able to feel what my partner is feeling when he tells me about his own child. I don't know if these experiences are common. I suppose for every parent their own child is magical and special, the most beautiful, the most talented being. While for others they are just a fellow human being. Oftentimes, my partner tells me about his child and the child's achievements. I feel happiness for my partner but not much more than that. I don't know what I am supposed to feel. 

When I think about these topics, it feels like a taboo subject. This is not something I hear people in my social circle discuss often. I have considered both staying and leaving this relationship. Each of these options has its own positive aspects and downsides. If I stay, I have to accept a half-relationship while I feel that I deserve and need more than that. If I leave, I will not have to tolerate a setting that makes me uncomfortable but also I will not be with the person I love. Some days I want to stay, other days I want to leave. 

These thoughts occupy my mind rather often, and I think about this challenging personal situation while I'm writing my book. None of it is explicitly discussed in the book, but I can't help but think that it somehow affects my writing, being in, and my perception of, the world. I think a lot about ephemerality, impermanence, people's journeys. 

This situation is not something I can get advice about. Every human being is unique. For some the same situation would not be as unpleasant as it is for me. Others would not even consider being in a relationship with a person who has a child with someone else. I don't know what is the right thing to do in this situation. I asked my partner if it is a solution to give this relationship a trial period to see if it works or not. We agreed to see how it goes. 

184

 Changing space

I enjoyed living furniture-free for just over half a year. Before that I actually never owned any furniture, it always was someone else's. When my partner and I decided to move in together, we knew that our space would not look exactly like the place where I lived. 

Living furniture-free was wonderful. I would move a lot every day. It felt grounding and simple. I felt like it would be very easy to relocate when the time comes. I don't think my guests enjoyed my furniture-free space much, and also it was rather cold to sleep on the floor in the cooler months in Finland. But I don't regret living this way. Very often I still sit on the floor. I work from the floor, and my partner and I still sleep on the floor.

Living furniture-free was something I always wanted to try. There is a strand within extreme minimalist movement. It unites those of our fellow humans who take extreme minimalism this far. At least I believe for many fellow humans in our society living furniture-free would be taking sustainable living too far. But when I was living this way, I was not missing furniture at all. There are so many more items that I find more useful than pieces of furniture. In my so-called "sufficiency list" there is no furniture at all. 

And I was always on the go. Nowhere felt like home to me. Until now. With my partner we decided to buy some furniture from Danish companies, made from European certified wood. All of those items we intend to keep for the rest of our lives and then hopefully pass on to our fellow humans. 

We decided to get a clothes rack, a bed frame, a bench and a table. The chairs in our home my partner has owned for a long time. I think he inherited them. These items will allow us to remove many of our things from the floor. The place we live in is a small studio flat. And because there are two of us, there are more objects. 

What we live with is still a lot less than what a normal family here in Denmark would have. But both of us want to have a minimalist, ecological, simple and cosy life. For storage, we use cotton storage bags. 

183

 Being at Roskilde university in Denmark

These days I'm visiting Roskilde University (RUC). To be here for any meaningful length of time, I had to go through what I can only describe as hell. I've written an entry about it to document my experiences of unfair treatment and harassment. The manager was not happy with my research visit at this university because my partner works here. She thought I wanted to be in Denmark and at Roskilde university for personal rather than professional reasons. She said I should research Finnish businesses rather than Danish ones, though in my postdoc I have freedom to research what I want. At the time she was saying all the sexist and even racist things, I felt incredibly bad. I was diagnosed with severe anxiety and depression. I complained about the manager's misconduct but still nothing has been done about it. There has been no apology from her, the university did nothing to remove her as my manager and nothing to assist me with being in Denmark more. Denmark is where I feel good and at home, have my partner and a place I call home, understand the language to a large extent, and where I research businesses. In the manager's place, I would have apologised and resigned. Instead, she felt even more empowered to give me tasks that mean I have to work unpaid overtime. She instrumentalised another colleague for this too. In the end of her emails she would ask me to acknowledge receipt of her emails, which is degrading but also unnecessary. Moreover, it is bad for nature, as emails have a carbon footprint. As a researcher in sustainability she should know this. As a sustainability researcher she should also know that it is essential to act in society with care and concern for fellow humans, none of which she manifested in my case, or in any other case at work that I'm familiar with. 

I was thinking a lot about being at the same university as my partner. It is so old-fashioned to think that love somehow interferes in negative ways with work. In my experience, love only contributes to creativity. I already felt much better psychologically and physically when I was visiting Aalborg university. I'm feeling so happy, calm, and productive at Roskilde university. I was not feeling this way at the university I'm affiliated with. 

I'm sitting at my partner's office, and to the left from where I'm sitting there is a bookshelf. My partner and I are in the same field (degrowth). He is interested in the political economy of degrowth transformations, while I'm interested in the micro level, that of businesses and individuals. We often use the same books in our research, and it's wonderful to have those books right here at the office. 

The area where Roskilde uni is located feels very calm in comparison to Copenhagen where we live. I can see a lake and beautiful willow trees from the office window and feel so positive about working on the book I'm writing. 

182

 Everyday practices

Keeping the celery we got fresh for longer in a glass jar with water. The jar was originally home to pasta sauce. We use this celery for pasta and in salads. It's one of my favourite vegetables. 

Today I repaired a small rip inside a pocket of my partner's jacket. I used white thread because it was the only one available in our local supermarket, and also in my view it looks beautiful. Though no one will see that the pocket was repaired, I would have used the same thread if the rip was in a more obvious place. I think it's important to normalise repairing things. When I was young, many more people used to repair their own clothing and that of their family members. These days, too often, people appear to simply throw items of clothing away when there is a small imperfection. Some of my things have small rips in them, but I continue to wear them. I do not think such imperfection look ugly. They are part of that object's story.

181

 Writing the book

Since I relocated to Denmark, away from the manager and her harassment, I felt creative and could write again. It is interesting how one person who is in a position of power can affect one's mental health so much and so negatively. The manager was not supportive of my book project. She said at the university I am affiliated with it is only papers that count. Papers in FT50 journals. This approach to science is toxic. Most fresh, creative, beautiful ideas are discussed outside those journals. And in my view, it is only a book that can give you freedom to write freely, to constellate theories, philosophy, examples, reflections, insights into the process. I prefer books. Writing this book is therapeutic and feels important. It is a space where all my ideas, thoughts, contemplations on my area of expertise are coming together. In the book, I talk a lot about the process of writing it. I don't want it to be detached from my lived experiences. 

I work on the floor. In Finland I lived without furniture for many months. In Denmark my partner and I will have some pieces of furniture, but they take a long time to arrive. We did not want any fast furniture objects in our home. Instead we went for something we will keep for the rest of our lives. So we sit on the floor and write. I don't find it uncomfortable. In fact it feels humbling and freeing. 

Most of our life at home is floor-based currently. Our wardrobe is on the floor too, so is our bed. Because we live with very few items, our home doesn't feel cluttered. It still looks calm and feels peaceful to us. 

180

 Simple living aesthetics

This morning my partner and I went to a café nearby to get lunch. This is where I took the picture above. We were working on our books from home since early morning, and didn't have much time together today due to his childcare responsibilities he shares with his ex partner. So we decided to go to a café together. We were talking about aesthetics of simple living. This is something I think about very often. To me, simple life manifested in, e.g., little consumption, living with very few items, using natural materials and neutral colours seems very beautiful. Because I stepped on this path of living simply many years ago due to my ecological concerns, I often felt like it's almost shallow to talk about aesthetics of simple living and how calming and cosy it can be. It is only more recently that I decided to talk about it more openly and even highlight it as an aspect of this lifestyle. 

My partner was saying that to him the pictures in this autoethnography, which he was reading until I asked him not to (to help me continue writing authentically), are beautiful. I understand that they will not be beautiful to everyone, but when I look at them, they oftentimes make me feel happy. It is in contrast with many of the things I write about. I often mention challenges and mental health issues. 

It is difficult to capture in pictures what I go through as a human being and as a practitioner of a lifestyle that constellates various elements of zero waste, deep ecology, voluntary simplicity, and extreme minimalism. I enjoy the space my partner and I share. I find the objects we live with beautiful. But there is so much more that pictures will not tell. In this entry I want to capture some of these things.

I've had no place I would call my "home" for more than two years. I left my family home completely when I was around 20 and only visited my family once since then. England became my home and I lived there for over 10 years. Then I moved to northern Sweden. When I moved to northern Sweden, I had a feeling I would leave at some point, though I love that country. Then I moved to Finland. None of those apartments where I lived were a long-term home. Then I relocated to Denmark, and the place where I live with my partner feels like home, but I don't even have a residence permit for this country yet.

When I moved to Finland, something felt wrong. I like Finland a lot, and felt welcome in that beautiful country. But being outside a Germanic language speaking environment (though Swedish is an official language in Finland, my feeling was that it's not widely used) made me feel like I was an outsider. I knew I would not stay in Finland. Moreover, I began to struggle with my health in Finland a lot. I have never taken as much medicine in my whole life as I did during my 8 or so months in Finland. 

A large contributor to me wanting to leave Finland was the working environment. I wrote an entry (number 166) about it. I was diagnosed with severe anxiety and depression due to the manager's behaviour. The university I am affiliated with feels very hierarchical to me, and the issue is still unresolved. Those severe struggles with my mental health is not something one can see in my pictures that accompany my autoethnography. I felt mentally and physically better again only when I relocated to Denmark for my research visit. But I still haven't decided how I will navigate my life from now on. 

Though I felt better when I relocated to Denmark, moving in together with my partner didn't feel good in the first few days. There are still struggles. I haven't met his family and his child. 

A possibility that I might not have a job soon makes me feel uncomfortable. Thanks to extreme minimalism, I could save some money to sustain myself for some months. But relocating to Denmark was very expensive. The residence permit itself was around 630 euros. My partner and I had to buy some items to establish our household. We wanted to buy items that we would keep for the rest of our lives, and buy only from the kind of businesses I research (small, local, sustainable). When I came to Denmark, I changed my address in Finland. To withdraw from the rental agreement with the housing company in whose apartment I used to live was around 900 euros. Now I have a different address in Finland. 

Having an address in Finland still makes me attached to that country. Finland is where I still work, pay taxes, and where I can get healthcare. It would have felt better to live, work and use services in the same country, which for me is Denmark. 

I've found it incredibly challenging to keep in touch with people when I move. I've met wonderful people in all the countries I've lived in. But technology cannot replace quality time spent together. 

I worry about not doing enough as an academic. The manager at work seems vengeful because I reported her for unfair treatment and harassment. I want to teach more, but she gave me many tasks that are degrading instead. I miss interacting with students.

At times I worry about the book I'm writing. The process feels liberating and even somehow necessary (to constellate all my thoughts and reflections on the topic I've been working with since 2016 in one place). But it also felt natural and right to step away from more conventional thinking and approaches. I don't know what my fellow scholars will think about it. 

There are so many smaller issues too. 

179

 Very small actions

I defend very small scale actions. They seem ineffectual against ecological and social degradation, and I agree with those who advocate change in our systems via eco-social policies. Those defending small scale actions and practising alternative lifestyles (e.g., zero-waste, extreme minimalism, self sufficiency, voluntary simplicity) are of course not opposed to change in systems. In the end of the day, this is exactly what they want. Defending small scale actions such as using soap bars is not the same as saying that you or I will "save the planet" via these kinds of actions. 

To me it feels that the value of practising, e.g., zero-waste, is in intentionally and constantly developing and enacting a different mode of being in the world. This different mode of relating with the self, human and non-human others, and nature/cosmos, is what, I believe (together with good eco-social policies) will result in something more beautiful. 

I've been practising more ecological living for more than 10 years now. I notice how living this way, with fewer possessions than is the norm in this society, not having a car, using natural materials, etc. changes how I relate with world. Simplicity and non-hierarchy are so central. I don't wear makeup. I wear the same things every day. I use cotton tote bags instead of bags that serve as a status or fashion item. All of this normalises simplicity and makes me simply human. I don't want to look like an academic (though I am in academia), or claim power over my students or anyone else by looking smart or well-dressed. 

Products associated with a more sustainable lifestyle are more expensive than conventional alternatives. At times I want to write an entry with the prices of the products I consume usually. They also are expensive to me, but I exclude a large number of categories of products from my consumption altogether because I prefer to spend more in other domains (such as food and looking after my home). 

This lifestyle is good for my wellbeing. I feel at peace. I don't want more in my life. There is no wish list. 

Students and other fellow humans often ask me what they can do in their everyday life. I feel that saying "nothing, you can only vote better" if disempowering. I am very open about my own lifestyle and struggles. I disclose what I personally do, which I document in this autoethnography. Many of my students have very similar practices. 

Living this way makes you reflect on so many things. On research, teaching, communication. 

178

 A day

Rather spontaneously, I decided to write about a day in my life. I'm fascinated by everyday life and how sustainability manifests (and does not manifest) in small everyday actions. The intention behind this autoethnography is of course not to glorify a particular lifestyle, but to become aware of, and reveal, nuances, constraints and empowering factors. Now I've relocated to Denmark, I feel that even more of these nuances etc. are becoming obvious, and I hope to capture them. I wanted to write about a usual day. 

My partner and I woke up early. He made coffee for us. For a long time I've been trying to consume less coffee and drink herbal teas instead. But here in the Nordics coffee feels like an institution rather than a beverage, consider fika in Sweden. Here in Denmark I get organic oat milk made from Danish oats.

In the morning we were again looking at tables to buy online. When my partner moved out of his previous home, his ex partner asked if she could keep the table. He said yes. We found a table that is made in Denmark from certified wood. My partner wrote to the company to ask more about the table. They got back to him quickly. Smaller businesses usually answer relatively quickly with personalised messages. I research such businesses and also prefer to buy from them. The table will take a month or so to arrive. I hope they make these tables when they receive an order. This would be a beautiful ecological practice. We were thinking about fast furniture, and how normal it has become to get furniture immediately. 

Then we went for a long walk towards the centre of Copenhagen and the waterfront. We only had a few hours to spend together, as today and tomorrow my partner has childcare responsibilities. We didn't have time to have lunch together, but we found a small bakery in town and spent a little bit of time there. 

We talked a lot about consumption. Since I relocated to Denmark, we've consumed more than we usually would. But setting up a household requires extra consumption. Instead of buying from small businesses, we could buy second-hand. But neither of us likes shopping, so buying from small and ecological Danish businesses made more sense. We could find everything we wanted to keep for the rest of our lives and then hopefully pass on to fellow humans. 

Shortly after we came back home, my partner left to see his child and spend time with them. I don't join them because he has never introduced us. At home it feels cold, though it was warm outside. I wear a large scarf that I bought in Sweden some years ago. It feels good to spend time on my own, and I decided to write. 

For dinner I have Danish potatoes and salad made from Danish vegetables. We buy them from a supermarket. We try to buy organic food whenever possible. At times, organic produce is packaged in plastic, while zero waste produce is not organic. More ecological options are rather expensive. We minimise our consumption in many domains. We don't have a car, and buy new clothing very rarely. I don't use makeup and don't wear jewellery. We don't buy expensive gifts for each other, there is no such expectation. Reducing consumption significantly in many domains allows us to buy better food. We prioritise our basic needs in general: our home (rent) and food. 

177

 The mundane

Mundane is not a very nice word. It has associations with things boring and dull. Like my fellow humans in the field of post-growth, I am interested in visions of a better, more caring society living harmoniously with nature. But there is something about the mundane that makes me feel curious and inspired. I wonder why and how a more beautiful society arises (and does not arise) from and in the everyday. I like my main strand of research (degrowth business) a lot, but my autoethnography is where I feel oneness with my research. It feels alive and raw. 

The setting for this research is currently my temporary place in Copenhagen. My partner and I are renting a studio apartment. The area seems expensive. Our rent is around 1500 euros a month for this small place. It is comparable to my rent in Helsinki where I paid around 900 euros for a 29 sq. m studio apartment. Here in Denmark my partner and I were restricted in terms of the area where we could live. He shares childcare responsibilities with his ex partner, so we had to live close to where the ex partner and the child live. There are beautiful green spaces nearby, one in front of our windows, but I always think that living in this beautiful area is possible because we have jobs. If it was up to me, I probably would not be living in Copenhagen, and would choose another city in Denmark. Copenhagen is very busy and expensive, the traffic is overwhelming. The city is large, and since I walk everywhere, it takes me a long time to walk from one place to another. Generally we stay in the same area where we live and the ones nearby.

Relocating to Copenhagen meant the end of my extremely minimalist lifestyle. To many our current lifestyle would seem extreme minimalist, but I can definitely tell the difference between how we live currently and how I used to live. For instance, I lived without furniture and equipment. My partner and I decided to invite some pieces of furniture into our space, mostly to organise this space better and not have as many things on the floor as we currently have. We also got a vacuum cleaner. There is more dust as there are two of us, and this studio flat is a little bit bigger than the one I lived in. To clean the floor by hand would use too much of my time. When I walked among storage rooms downstairs, I noticed that many people have vacuum cleaners. This item could definitely be shared, not everyone needs to own one. But we don't know our neighbours and still decided to buy this device.

I have only a few items of clothing, most likely less than twenty. From Finland I brought two pairs of shorts, two pairs of sweatpants, three white vests, one black vest, two white linen shirts, a large woollen scarf, a jacket, and a few small items. I don't feel that it's not enough. I've been visiting Aalborg university for a week, and no one said anything about me wearing the same clothes every day. I also wear my partner's clothes. He wears mostly white t-shirts, beige shorts and black trousers. The white shirts we share. Before moving in with me, he donated many items of clothing. We don't have a washing machine but there are shared ones in this building. I like this system a lot. When I lived in my first temporary place in Finland, there were shared washing machines too, but unfortunately many people used heavily scented laundry products. The scent would last in those machines, and would transfer onto my clothes too. Here in our apartment block in Denmark it doesn't seem to be a problem. 

Everything my partner and I buy we intend to keep for the rest of our lives, so we choose slowly and intentionally. Better quality, durable and certified products are expensive, so we will get everything we need overtime. Some things that my partner brought home he inherited from his grandparents, and some items he has had for many years. But overall, we don't have much. 

There are still many categories of products we exclude from our consumption. We don't have a car, a tv, and decorations. I still exclude the categories I excluded a long time ago, such as makeup, fancy clothes and bags, jewellery. 

We share a lot of items. T-shirts and shirts, towels, produce bags, everything in the household, to a large degree including money as well. 

Comfort is important to us. Other things that are important are growing together, being creative. At times we joke about what our families would say about this space. They would probably find it too small and empty. 

176

 Little things

My research stay at Aalborg uni is coming to an end. A week is a short period of time, but this time has been incredibly important to me. Before I came here, I didn't realise how important it would be. After weeks in an unhealthy and unsafe work environment I felt I could finally focus and write again. When I was back in Finland close to the manager, I couldn't even revise a book chapter, something that is usually such a simple and pleasant task. At Aalborg I revised the chapter within 2 days. My mind is returning to a healthy state, though I still don't know what to do about my current situation.

Being in a healthier state of mind allowed me to be more present with my daily sustainability practices. While I was living similarly to how I had been living before the toxic situation at work unfolded, I wasn't thinking too much about my practices. They became daily habits. Today I went to a bakery to pick up a cake for my partner's birthday, and a loaf of bread. They usually put bread in paper bags which I reuse. But today I decided to get a cotton bag so I don't need to get paper ones again. 

175

Our space in becoming

It is so interesting to observe how our space is transforming. Before I relocated to Denmark, I knew that my partner and I would not continue on the same extreme minimalist path that I was dwelling. We would practise minimalism though, and also continue to practise ecological living. The difference between my previous mode of living and the current one, in terms of objects, is that we will have a few pieces of furniture and some useful objects (such as a cutting board) that I never invited into my space because I knew I would be moving again soon. At this point it feels that we can live with a little bit more things. For example, my partner brought some chairs home. He's had them for a long time. 

My partner knows about this autoethnography and he used to read it until I asked him not to. I felt that knowing that he reads it would make my writing less raw and authentic. Jokingly, he said that he was hoping that I don't blame him for us living with furniture now. Living with some furniture after months of me practising furniture-free living is a joint decision, not his own or my own. We decided to have the chairs he already owned, a cloth rack, a bench, a table, and a bed frame. Sleeping on the floor is only comfortable for me, so we agreed on a different solution. Having a table would allow both of us to work from home and invite fellow humans in. A bench and a cloth rack will help us organise our space better. It's two of us in a small studio apartment, and currently most of our items are on the floor. Having them elsewhere will help us keep this small space clean. I still prefer to sit on the floor, and I use the chairs to hang and put things on. 

It feels good to have larger packages of things like salt and oil, something I avoided buying because I knew I'd be leaving at some point soon. When we were in Sweden, in a small store that sells handmade soaps, I thought we could get several of them as we would be using them in our home for many months to come. It also feels good to be able to buy bread from a bakery. I would rarely buy it because I was living on my own, and a loaf of bread would be too big for me. 

This space is beginning to feel more like a home rather than a temporary accommodation. 

174

 Not knowing

Stability in life is something I've almost never felt. My stepdad was in the army, so we moved a lot. Then I moved intentionally to England, then to Sweden, to Finland, and finally (?) to Denmark. The only things that provided a sense of stability to me have been deep trust, comfort and safety in the universe, and a worldview that is very much related to this attitude, to which love and care towards the self, human and non-human others, and nature are central. My practices arising from this worldview have been more or less settled in the past 10+ years. 

These days I am learning to feel comfortable with not knowing how life will unfold. It's never possible to know fully, but I am in a situation where I'm not sure what will happen next month. 

Many things are sources of this severe instability. 

Harassment from the manager is something I refuse to tolerate. I've been trying to address it for a while, and more recently I contacted harassment contact persons at my university, so they are aware of the situation. Many people are aware but nothing has changed so far. Being at Aalborg university with its peaceful atmosphere made me realise that I need to step out of my university to honour my mental health. Dealing with this situation in the past weeks made me realise how fragile the human psyche and mental health are. 

My relationship with the person I love is not unfolding the way we thought it would. We've known each other for 3 years and were in a long-distance relationship for 3.5 months. We lived separate lives and kept in touch via technology. Moving in together brought to the surface multiple issues. Before stepping into this space of living together, I thought that perhaps my extreme minimalism could become an issue. When my partner visited me in Finland, he respected my lifestyle but didn't feel comfortable in my furniture-free space. When we started living together, we realised that it was easy to agree on what our home would look like, on the practices and principles of running our household. The issues relate to the fact that my partner has a young child from his previous relationship and shares childcare responsibilities with his ex partner. I've never met his child and we will not be spending time together for many months to come. I don't have children, and my partner doesn't want any more children. Due to me relocating often and due to academic jobs being so precarious, I've not had time to even consider having children. And now it looks like it's not even an option if I want to be with the person I am with. To me it feels that my partner lives two lives, and one of them I don't know much about. I don't think there is a perfect way to navigate this difficult situation. 

I am waiting to receive a Danish residence permit. It should take a month or so, and the permit I've applied for is for a year and some months. As a British citizen, without this permit I can only stay in Denmark for 3 months. These migration issues are a source of instability. It feels unsettling to have a home in a country where one doesn't have residence rights yet. 

Having multiple languages in my mind is disorientating. In terms of language, I immediately felt more comfortable in Denmark after living in Finland. Swedish is an official language in Finland, but I believe that Swedish is the first language for only around 5% of population in Finland. While much information is available in Swedish, Swedish is still a marginal language. For example, doctors write notes in Finnish, information from the housing company was in Finnish, emails from many students are in Finnish. Since I was in an academic environment (which is international) and I knew that Finland would not become my home, I never learned Finnish. I relied on English and Swedish. I understand some Danish but I can't speak it. It's a beautiful language and part of me wants to learn it but considering how my relationship is unfolding, I am not yet sure that I will stay in Denmark. 

Writing my book has been both therapeutic and chaotic. It is therapeutic because all the knowledge I have about a topic, all the thoughts, ideas, and reflections are crystallising in one place. It is something I've been wanting to do for a long time, and finally it is happening. And yet, it is hard to write considering all the other things that are unfolding at the same time. 

My mind is trying to handle simple things such as cooking and cleaning my home, being in Denmark in the most ecological way possible. At the same time, my mind is trying to handle abstract philosophical concepts. I am trying to be present in every moment, feel the rain on my skin and enjoy a kanelbulle by the water. And I am trying to imagine what may unfold in the future. 

173

 Being at Aalborg uni

It's the first day of my visit at Aalborg uni. 

The day didn't start well at home. My partner and I just moved in together, but somehow it feels challenging to start our life together well. Our relationship faces everyday challenges. Our communication feels poor. Before we moved in together, I thought it would be much easier to navigate everyday life and my partner's existing commitments, but in reality it is not easy. At this point, I am not sure if it will work out. We love each other but we have very different ideas about life in some important domains. I used to think that love would help us overcome these challenges and differences but perhaps this is not the case. 

I felt good when I came to Aalborg uni. My first impression was that it's a peaceful space. The office space is large and shared, everyone sits together. In Umeå where I used to be, everyone, whether it was a PhD student or a professor, had their own office. At Aalto office spaces were assigned based on one's "importance". PhD students sit either in large shared spaces or offices without windows. Postdocs sit in smaller shared offices with windows. Professors have their own offices. Aalto university feels very hierarchical and old-fashioned to me. I often see how postdocs work more than professors. Being in a temporary position is scary, and postdocs often work overtime (unpaid) to have a strong enough cv to eventually get a permanent job. At Aalto I often found myself running between my shared office and a meeting room for some privacy or online meetings, while professors at that university could work in peace. Perhaps it wouldn't be such an issue if the organisational structure was less hierarchical, but unfortunately it is. 

Being at Aalborg for a few hours made me realise that I don't want to be in my current university. It may sound strange, and it is not my intention to romanticise an organisation I'm not familiar with, but somewhere on an intuitive level a set of reasons to exit my current workplace crystallised and is beginning to enter my consciousness. Harassment from the manager, hierarchical organisational structure, unhealthy obsession with FT50 journals. All of this creates a toxic space. Of all places where I've worked, I've felt least creative and productive in my current university despite working overtime and most weekends. 

The space where I am at Aalborg uni feels cosy and relaxed. Someone has warm blankets in their little corner. A colleague told me that usually people leave at 5, so there is no normalisation of overwork. She mentioned that people here don't send emails in the evenings and on weekends. In Sweden it was so too. No one would send work emails during those times. When I moved to Finland, I saw that it was a normal practice in my department. 

In the past few days, I often thought "what am I doing here? why am I here?" in relation to my presence in Denmark. Crossing the bridge between Sweden and Denmark was painful, and stepping into a new chapter with my partner in so many moments felt wrong (though there were also magical moments). At the same time, I feel that I am learning something. Sometimes this "something" is not what I expected to learn. I am learning that I do not want to be in a toxic and unsafe work environment and tolerate harassment. I, and every other human being, deserves to be in a safe, healthy, and supportive space. 

172

 Writing autoethnography right now

I wanted to say a few words about writing autoethnography while a significant shift in my life is unfolding. It's not easy but it also feels important and valuable, as one of my intentions is to capture nuances, challenges and everyday life in general in their raw form. 

I was planning to be in Denmark for my research, but at the same time my partner is Danish, and my research coincides with us creating a home together. This once again highlights the plurality of roles we play as human beings in society. I am a researcher but also a partner to another human being. 

At times I want to write my autoethnographic notes, and at the same time I want to be present as my dwelling in Denmark begins. Writing as things happen takes something away from magical moments. I try to be present and find time for writing. 

I don't take breaks from writing my autoethnography, and when I lived by myself it wasn't an issue. Now when I am with another person, I have to navigate writing differently. 

Relocating to Denmark was supposed to be beautiful (so I hoped) but it came together with harassment from my manager and challenges that come with my partner trying to balance his childcare responsibilities and our relationship. I write in such a way as to not reveal the identity of the manager (as researchers, we try to protect identity or ask for consent to reveal it). From a research ethics perspective it makes sense. From a justice perspective it doesn't. Unfortunately, I learned about multiple issues many fellow humans at work are having with that manager after I joined my current university. It would have been better if I knew about these severe issues beforehand. For example, if I learned in advance that the manager asked a PhD student of hers to find information about my family, I would not have agreed to work "with" her. The word "with" feels inappropriate in this context, since we haven't worked together. She is simply my line manager. 

My autoethnographic notes seem messy and fragmented which reflects my current state of mind. It is normal for autoethnography to be messy and fragmented, but at the same time, since I made my autoethnographic data public, I also want it to make sense to my fellow humans. Perhaps it is challenging for my readers to make sense of everything that is unfolding, as it doesn't fully make sense to me. 

At times I find it hard to find the right words for what I am feeling. My feelings are conflicted, and my practices feel unsettled. The only thing that feels stable is my worldview. The values and principles I live by, such as love, gentleness, care for the self, human and non-human others, and nature. 

171

 First steps in Copenhagen

So much is unfolding right now and so many thoughts are running through my mind. It's been a difficult year in general, but this time feels the most challenging so far. Being in Denmark is freeing but also overwhelming. My partner and I moved in together just now and are currently in the process of creating our home. My university have done nothing to address my manager's harassment directed at me, and I'm not sure they will do anything about it. The manager feels comfortable with exercising her toxic authority over me, so she doesn't seem to be afraid of any actions against her from the university's side. I've seen such situations before (though this one is rather extreme!), and it's puzzling how little is usually done to address harassment. 

I've practised extreme minimalism for many years, and have lived without furniture in the past half a year. But moving in together with another person means that the space reflects the needs of both. I feel fortunate that both my partner and I like minimalism and seek ecological options for our home. 

Figuring out things like how and where to buy train tickets, how to get to various places adds to the already overwhelming situation.

Getting used to a different climate will take a bit of time. In the past two years I've lived in northern Sweden and southern Finland. Copenhagen feels very warm in comparison, and the past few days felt like summer, while Helsinki already felt autumnal. Something I notice around me are roses. So many of them are blooming these days in Copenhagen, and they remind me of the UK where I used to live. 

I'm finding rest and joy in very simple activities such as cooking, walking and doing a jigsaw puzzle together with my partner. 

Much of our life is currently floor-based, though we decided to have some pieces of furniture in our home. 

We decided to get as few pieces of furniture as possible though. For hanging and drying our clothes we will have a very simple cloth rack instead of a wardrobe. For now, we hang our clothes to dry creatively around our apartment.

170

 Creating a home

In the picture above is all my partner and I initially brought home. Most of those things are what I moved with from Finland, some are my partner's items. 

I've moved into empty spaces, with very few possessions, a few times in my life. The first thing I arranged was a bed of some kind, and a pot to boil water for tea and coffee. 

My partner brought some items to our new home. 

We've made very simple but delicious food with Danish ingredients, like a simple salad and smørrebrød.

We also invited other beings into our space, the two beautiful plants in the picture below. The stones I brought from Finland. They are meaningful to me. One I brought to Finland from northern Sweden, one is from Finland, and one was a gift from my partner. He brought it for me from Denmark to Finland. Now this stone is back home. I wasn't sure about having a Finnish stone in my space, considering everything I lived through in Finland. But then I thought that it is only one organisation, and specifically one toxic manager and those who support her that caused negative reactions in my soul and body. I still love Finland and its magical nature. I had beautiful experiences in that country. 

169

 Landing

I took a ferry to Stockholm and then a train to Copenhagen. I feel like I'm finally home. Denmark is my fifth country that is becoming my home.

I want to be present every minute and at the same time I want to write more about change in my autoethnography.  

The manager who is trying to exercise her power over me is still vengeful. She sent an email in the evening trying to delegate more tasks which means I would have to work overtime, and the university would not pay for it. She resent the same rude email the next day. But being home makes me see things from a different perspective. I wrote to her manager telling him that I will reconsider staying at the current university. I feel free and good. My partner and I were reading the manager's emails together wondering how someone in the field of sustainability can be so violent and abusive. My partner believes that the manager is trying to make me leave the university. While the situation is challenging, we were smiling while discussing this. None of it is important. Stepping into the new chapter of our life is, on the other hand.

We went to a Danish supermarket to get food for dinner. The supermarket was similar enough to the ones in Sweden, but it still takes some time for me to find more sustainable options. My partner comes from Copenhagen, and he also practices minimalism and ecological living. He shares his knowledge about the city with me. 

168

 Figuring things out

So many things are unfolding at the same time. In my field (post-growth) we often seem to look for somewhat simple answers. Naturally, we acknowledge that things are messy in reality, but we still offer what appears to be answers. These are eco-social policies that will create space for a post-growth society, these are business models for genuine sustainability, these are sustainable technologies, and here are unsustainable ones. 

This chapter of my life is humbling in the sense of bringing my attention to how reality unfolds, and how disorientating it feels. I am trying to learn from this feeling of disorientation and trying to figure things out. 

Disorientation manifests in so many ways. I try to practise intuitive walking, meaning that I don't use an app to navigate and find the places I need to visit. At some point I will say more about it, but I do this to connect deeper with the city.

At times, I wonder where to get lunch in the city I still don't know well. Even though I practise extreme minimalism, I still consume. There are certain principles behind my consumption that I write about in this autoethnography, but they can only guide. 

Being with a person who has a young child from his previous relationship is challenging. I can see how he is trying to be there for the child and nurture our relationship at the same time, and it feels chaotic. 

I am learning to stand up for myself in a hostile environment at work. I have written openly about the issue to bring attention to oppression in academia in my entry number 166, but almost every day there is more abuse of power. The toxic individual at work keeps sending emails with more and more tasks which appears to be her revenge for my questioning of her authority. The language she uses it appalling. In some way it is disorienting to be in the field of sustainability and meet such individuals. After all, sustainability is about care. 

167

 Shift

Being in the middle of a shift as it's happening is challenging. It comes with so many conflicting feelings and emotions. The feeling of liberation co-exists with fear of the unknown. Support from some fellow humans is co-present with oppression from others. Due to my manager's inappropriate attitude to, and interest in, my personal life, for the first time in my autoethnographic journey I began to think about sharing less. It feels uncomfortable as I've always tried to write in a way that is raw and authentic. 

As my research stay in Denmark is approaching, I've finally felt free, though the difficult situation at work is not resolved and my future is unclear. 

Before going to Denmark, I started to look for some sustainable businesses for my research and personal consumption. 

166

"If you were Danish or Swedish, things would have been different"

At times, when I contemplate this autoethnography, despite the struggles I try to reveal, my heart is filled with the sense of peacefulness and hope. Perhaps no one who practices extreme minimalism or teaches post-growth thinks that they are on their own changing everything and bringing about a genuinely sustainable society. Like myself, most realise their own limitations, and see their actions as a small contribution to change in social structures and systems. Apart from this small contribution, there are aesthetic and spiritual aspects of extreme minimalism. In my experience, it is a beautiful lifestyle. Living this way is calming and allows me to dedicate my energy to many other spaces.

Overall, it's been pleasant to practise extreme minimalism, and pleasant to write about it. Initially, in my autoethnographic writing I was going to focus on the material aspects of this mode of being. Then naturally the spiritual and social aspects demanded my attention. Writing about the social aspects, especially when they concern struggles against powerful structures, is more challenging, since it refers to and evokes feelings of pain, fear, distress, and anxiety. 

Sustainability is all about being in the world differently or harmoniously with the self, human and non-human others, and nature. For my partner and co-author, at the heart of genuine sustainability are gentleness and care. Oppression, harassment, unfair treatment, discrimination and so on are not in line with sustainability. Though it might be assumed that this goes without saying, I believe it needs to be said again and again. It is especially so because these ugly and toxic attitudes and behaviours keep manifesting themselves. Or, to say it more accurately, they are enacted intentionally by those in positions of power within structures that empower them even further. 

I find it important to document my experiences. Over the years, there have been many toxic situations that I either experienced or witnessed, but in this entry I will document the experiences as I lived through them since the end of 2022. I will not disclose any names. 

I left a northern Swedish university in the end of 2022. There were several reasons for it. I wrote all the works that I wanted to write in northern Sweden, and I wanted to be closer to the fellow humans I was writing with at that time and with whom I'm writing with currently. They were based in southern Finland, Denmark, and southern Sweden. Some part of me also began to miss a milder climate and sunlight, though I fell in love with northern Sweden and its nature. 

When I relocated to southern Finland, my now-manager wanted to meet in person informally a few days before I started at my new university. She seemed very friendly. My now-partner joined part of the meeting as he was in Helsinki at that time. Him and I were working on a book and an article together. The meeting went well and I was looking forward to starting a new chapter in my academic journey.

There were three things I learned when I started at my current university. One was that many fellow humans in the research group I was loosely part of were incredibly unhappy. Another thing was that the manager, before I was offered the job, asked a fellow human, a PhD student, to find information about my family and not tell anyone about it. And the third thing was that the organisation is very hierarchical. One of my fellow humans at work mentioned that the organisation's management style is old-fashioned, but this presence of hierarchy I felt myself immediately after being in Sweden where hierarchies in academia exist but feel milder. Hierarchical structure disempowers those in temporary and precarious positions and empowers those in positions of power.

I work on my own research, do not co-author with the manager, and she is not my mentor. Once a fellow human at work asked me how I could work with this manager, and my response was that I simply was not working with her and was working together with fellow humans in other countries and universities. I brought my own research to the university, something that was missing from their teaching and publications. Even though the manager claimed that they had been teaching post-growth for many years, they lacked this expertise in their department. In fact, many Finnish post-growth scholars did their PhD in that department but none of them stayed. 

Months went by. The manager's style came across to me as micromanaging. She would send emails on Sundays and late evenings. Perhaps because I wasn't working closely with her, I overlooked much toxicity. At the same time, I empathised with others' bad experiences. I hope that they will tell their own stories. 

Something I found unusual was her calling the tasks others in the research group performed as "help". It felt disrespectful and hierarchical, since such "help" was not help at all, but time-consuming tasks she told people to do. 

In the end of winter I decided to write my own book. I'd been doing research on degrowth business since 2016, and it was time to collect all my knowledge, reflections, and thoughts in one place. The book would focus on the places where I dwell and that had deep meaning to me. The places are Denmark, Finland, and Sweden, the three Nordic countries where I've either lived (Sweden and Finland) or was going to spend time in (Denmark). I told the manager about the book and mentioned that I would collect more data in all these three countries. She didn't seem to have an issue with this, but she did say that books don't count and that I would need to focus on writing papers and not books. 

Because I had so many ongoing projects, I was working days, evenings and weekends. A colleague who was unhappy in that research group left, and I inherited the admin side of the online course he was running. Before he left, he told me that the course takes around 10 hours per month but it would take even more time for me since I was not yet familiar with the system.

My now-partner and I decided to be together in the end of May. I worked all summer apart from a few days when my partner and I could meet. When everyone began to return from the summer break, I saw the manager and mentioned briefly to her the news about my relationship. Initially, she seemed supportive but at the same time made strange, rude and inappropriate comments. She asked me if I had someone to go for lunch with, and I said no. We went to get lunch together. She said that I need to be extra careful as a "Russian woman" (I'm Jewish and a British citizen which she knew well) since, according to her, there is an assumption that Russian women want to be with "Western men". She said she had thought that my partner and I have had a love affair since the day in December when she met both of us, and that she had seen such situations before, including when women apparently benefitted from this "situation". She asked me about my living arrangement, to which I said that I would be looking to rent something less expensive in Finland, since being in a long-distance relationship comes with extra costs. She did say that she doesn't need me on site though. 

I will never forget the comment she made to me, which was "if you were Danish or Swedish, things would have been different". 

I reminded her about my book on Danish, Finnish, and Swedish businesses.

Right after that, she called the HR and told them that I was going to relocate to Denmark, quit my residence in Finland, and that she had doubts about my plan's legality. I came to see an HR person and explained that I was writing a book about Danish etc. businesses, and that I had a contract with a publisher. The HR person said they knew nothing about the book. There are two ways that my university allows researchers to work from abroad, one is short-term (up to 30 days) and one long-term. The HR wrote an email to me stating that if research can be done in Finland, then it must be done in Finland, and that I can go to Denmark for 2-3 weeks only as permitted by the manager. It feels important to say that in that department, many go on long-term research stays, and many work remotely.

I had a meeting with the manager where she said that I should keep in touch with my partner via technology, that he needs to take a break after his previous relationship, that if he wants to see me he needs to come to Finland, and that I can see him on the weekends or during holidays. She knew well that his contract is mostly teaching (while mine is 90% research) and he has care responsibilities in Denmark. In the end, she said that my "plan to be in Denmark is not going to work" (the first time she saw the plan was later). I yet again reminded her of my book and said I needed to be in Denmark and Sweden for research. She said "let's be honest". Then she claimed that she wanted to help me get access to Finnish businesses. This is something she promised many times but never did. I didn't follow up on that because I could reach out to Finnish businesses myself. 

My initial reaction was to leave. But then I decided to address this situation. I wrote to the HR manager and my manager's manager. I went to see occupational healthcare. The psychologist diagnosed me with severe depression and anxiety due to this situation, and the GP prescribed me some medication as well as signed a sick leave certificate. Interestingly (and shockingly), when I tried to discuss these diagnoses with HR, the HR manager said that what I discuss with a psychologist is personal, and that the psychologist can't advise the university what to do. According to the law in Finland, one's workplace must provide a safe work environment for humans, and the HR manager's unwillingness to hear about them failing to do so was, in my view, unacceptable. 

There were two meetings with HR and my manager's boss. During one meeting my 3.5 week plan to go to Denmark and Sweden was approved. Anyone doing place-based research on business knows that this is not enough. During the second meeting, I wanted to bring the managers' attention to inappropriate comments. Not only did my manager not apologise, but she said I was not doing my job based on an unanswered email. She said she only wanted to "help" as I am "Russian and new to the Nordics", knowing well that my closest colleagues are in the Nordics, I've lived in the Nordics for 2 years, and Russia is a place where I was born and lived, but is only a small part of my life's journey. She also said that my partner and I met when he was still married, as if it was relevant. The HR manager sided with my manager and claimed that since I am in Finland, I should be studying Finnish businesses. During the same meeting the HR manager tried to silence me by saying that I cannot discuss this situation with others. 

Yet another interesting comment my manager made was that "community" was important to her and that she wanted me to be present. The HR manager tried to reinforce this point. This comment about community went against both what my manager said just a few days before that (she didn't need me in Finland), and the state of the so-called community.

There was another meeting with my manager and her manager during which my manager delegated grading two papers of 150 students exactly during the time I was going to be in Denmark. Her manager asked her how she felt about being removed from my supervision and replaced by someone else, and she said she would speak to HR, meaning, in my view, that she refused to retain power over me. Before the meeting, she emailed my former colleague to inquire how long it took to register students' credits in the university's system for the online course I was administering. The former colleague responded and said it took 2 hours. During the meeting she claimed that this is how much time a course takes. Anyone in academia who administers courses knows that registering students' credits is only one, perhaps the least time-consuming, part of running a course. She also wanted a right to assign "tasks not otherwise specified" as she claimed that I am doing less than others. I believe that she knew that I worked much more than my standard hours, and wanted to make me feel bad via claiming that I worked less. 

The most memorable moment of the meeting was her saying that she didn't want my "help" anymore with a course she was running and that I should assist someone else. It was memorable because the title of the course was related to sustainability, and her behaviour was anything but in line with sustainability. It was only aimed at sustaining her own power.