Happy holidays!

There – said that with the requisite amount of enthusiasm. I like the holidays. All the things it is supposed to mean – not the shopping, not the stress – but the actual joy in someone’s face when they are happy for a moment and you helped. The warmth in the face of icy cold, the hope in the face of naysayers and the usual nonsense.

That.

I just got a notice. A must-read article. How to make the most of bad gifts.

Are you kidding…this is what you are spending your precious free time writing and reading? I know everyone needs money, but the sheer waste of time is staggering. Writing to please, chasing an elusive click. Not exactly holly jolly, is it? With all the things going on in the world right now – if you don’t like your gift, give it to someone in need. Send it to Ukraine. Hand it to a homeless person.

There – my moralizing is over, if you’re still here. Wait I know – an explosion! There. What will happen next? How to keep readers, in a world of too much, etc. I did turn down an invitation to a session on how to get and keep readers. Pity, I hear you say.

But things have happened. It’s been six months since I posted something here. Reluctant to do a diary entry for the world, such as it is. Those of you sending updates to your relatives may find this hard to comprehend. Why wouldn’t people want to know? Tell them everything. The chipped baking pan, the new porch, twelve children all with scholarships and vast potential. Your trip to some famous watering hole.

Oh. I’m talking about me. No. Didn’t do any of these things. I did do a lot, but now that I’ve started writing, I’m not sure I want to tell you. Things are different. That’s all. Nowhere in two places has expanded. Now nowhere in more than two places.

Will you ever be somewhere in one place, asks a curious person in the back row. Also – didn’t you know never to say oh in your writing. Rookie mistake. Don’t write the things you say. And who says oh anymore anyway? No one is surprised anymore. Didn’t you know.

There’s a question.

At any rate, there will be more posts. The writing, always in the back row, like the question, pushes to the foreground. My turn, it murmurs, with an unusual force.

I think.

It’s like dishes in the sink – it takes a bit of courage to face them, to bring order to chaos.

No, that’s wrong. It takes no courage to face dishes. It takes courage to face hardship. Sometimes just to get up takes more than there seems to be available. Too much thinking is dangerous.

I just watched a Spanish health commentator talk about how it is important to put your mental health first right now. You don’t need to answer every question posed by your relations, and you don’t need to fixate on any particular lapse.

It seems important to pay attention. Just notice.

Better to have l’esprit de l’escalier than no esprit at all.

Perhaps this is best –

Te raconter, enfin, qu’il faut aimer la vie
L’aimer même si
le temps est assassin et emporte avec lui
Les rires des enfants
Et les mistrals gagnants
Et les mistrals gagnants

Renaud

Wishing everyone the calm and peace of the holiday season.

Alice