Pause, pleasure, pain

I have written six blogs this year. If blogs were my sole source of income I would be living in a cardboard box, on two calories a day [see end note 1].

Time to have a look at this. What have I been writing in this blog? The honest answer is: small stories - details and crumbs of life - anything that gives me pause, pleasure or pain [see end note 2].

I want to write more, I do - and this is what's been stopping me: the big stuff. THE BIG STUFF: world dramas and disasters, global warming, war - the multitude of tragedies around. What could I possibly add, explain, reveal or change, about all that?

Then yesterday I was walking to the Scottish Storytelling Centre, with a detour through the park. In front of me, a couple - both very young, very thin, possibly Korean (skin like marble, clear features, shiny black hair). I had absolutely no clue what they were saying to each other, although I stalked them for a while, got closer, took off my hat (to hear better), you know, tried my best.

It went like this: they walked side by side like two well-behaved school children. Then he turned towards her with an impish smile and chirped something, pulling at the hem of her coat. She squeaked and hopped a little, slapping him. They both laughed their heads off. Walked a few more steps. Then he got a new idea, turned with an impish smile, chirped, etc etc. At some point he made a grab at her hand and didn't let go. They lost the squeaks and manic energy. Slowed down and got into step - very quiet now - as their heads moved closer together.

I didn't expect this and almost walked into them. I murmured a lame excuse in Romanian (see end note 3) and overtook them, missing the kiss.

That's it. What did this blog tell you? Pauper walks through park, loses hat, misses kiss.

See? What I write will not change the world.

Still, imagine this little walk; weighted down by all the horrors of the past few weeks - Beirut, Paris, Bucharest; El Nino and a whole alphabet of storms; resistance to antibiotics and the decline of bees - the list goes on and on... Notice that somehow:

people still have time for the silliness of their first love (and second, and third, and each);

there are sunny days in November and a hill in the middle of this city;

and, hint-hint, there is a Storytelling Centre at the end of my walk.

There is probably room for small stories too. What I write will not change the world - but, on a good day, it might make me write better, which will make me happy, which might change me (and you?) into people who can change the world.

End note 1: yes, I admit it: I was tempted to say something about 'selling my body'; I didn't because, apart from the huge (and not in a good way) cliche, it would mean burning my two calories a day only to be a different kind of loser.

End note 2: this probably explains my blog stats.

End note 3: why in Romanian? Three answers: a) why not? b) for revenge - after all, I had no idea what they were saying; c) it's where I take refuge when surprised, scared or in any way touched.