There Is a Whole Life in Each Day
Yana Northen • 12 October 2025
A Grandmother’s Reflection on Time and Love.
We often hurry through life, waiting for something — for future meetings, events, holidays.
Yet, It’s the simple, everyday moments that become the most precious when you realise how quickly they pass.
Although time cannot be stopped — we can feel its value.
Every time I visit my grandchildren, I’m reminded again of how quickly time flies.
It seems I’ve spent only a few days with them, yet that’s enough to notice how much they’ve changed.
They’re growing, not only on the outside but also within — maturing, thinking, reflecting on things and on life itself, in a deeper and more serious way.
I often think and write about time — about how everything around us changes every single day.
You feel it most when you live far away from your loved ones.
I come to visit — and suddenly I see how obvious the changes are.
For parents, they happen gradually, almost imperceptibly, but for a grandmother who visits only a few times a year, it’s like watching a film and fast forwarding; the children have already grown.
I had just returned home when my daughter called me by phone — my grandson wanted to talk to me.
He’s only four and a half years old, but he was very upset.
He was worried that he hadn’t said goodbye to me properly.
He spoke with such sincerity, with that innocent hurt only children are capable of:
— “Grandma, why didn’t we say goodbye for real?”
There was so much sadness and confusion on his little face, in his gestures, in his voice.
He was truly heartbroken.
His words, and everything I saw in that moment, touched me to the very core.
It’s in such moments that you realise how precious life is.
Moments pass, but they leave a trace.
We cannot stop time, but we should cherish every moment — because it will never come again.
⸻
Perhaps the only thing that can compensate for the passing of time
is appreciation - gratitude for the fact that it was.
For this morning, this day, this moment.
A moment from my London exhibition — mist, light, and water reflecting the stillness of time and the quiet clarity of passing life.
A reflection on waiting and uncertainty, where fragile moments and strange images reveal the inner echoes of the soul through photography.
A reflection on freedom and choice within life’s limits, inspired by Camus’ absurd: finding meaning through our actions despite mortality.
Capturing the invisible: wind, time, and fleeting moments. A reflection on memory, life, and eternity in a breath.
Thoughts on time, life’s fleeting moments, and discovering your inner compass amidst the rush of days.
Honouring my uncle’s memory through art, music, and the wisdom he shared about living life to the fullest.
Exploring how flowers, emotions, and images intersect — one layer of reality over another.
Planting poppies in my garden was my unconscious way of mourning my husband—only recently did I understand their deep, symbolic meaning.
A brief reflection on change, loss, and quiet presence. How one bare tree in a blooming garden became a reminder that everything passes, everything moves — and sometimes, the most important thing we can do is simply be.
A quiet morning. A small mirror. A body, remembered.
In this letter-like reflection, I explore what happens when we pause long enough to truly meet ourselves. Through a series of movements — gaze, touch, presence — I reconnect with my body not as an object, but as a part of me that feels, remembers, and responds.
This is a continuation of the project A Conversation with My Body — where photography and words become a form of healing, presence, and quiet truth.