A List

Recently I have been struggling with a crisis of a general lack of sense. As a philosophy scholar, I usually take it simply as a professional disease, in the way that construction building workers probably suffer a mild, constant back pain, or like people working at the cold-buffet at the grocery store probably have a mild, chronicle cold. As a remedy against that professional, mild form of melancholy, in a way warm tea with lemon slice and honey, I decided to make a list of things that make sense. To be consulted on rainy days.

- discovering that bubbly, strawberry-flavored and extra-sweet wine. Guilty pleasure!, which only makes it more enjoyable.
- the first time I parked the car flawlessly in that last parking lot I usually find free when I arrive at work, and one needs to make 10 manoeuvres back and forth in order to get a van into it. That first time - pure power!
- the morning when the toddlers come to me and start caressing me, because they find it's funny. And I just sit in the middle of the floor, with a shoe in my hand, and enjoy the careless, sticky caresses of the little hands.
-  the blue winter sky over a yellow building.
- discovering a new poem that grasped my thoughts in a better way (check out Sjon).
- kids singing "Ciao amore" in the car to the top of their lungs.
- two tickets for my favourite singer and songwriter, bought by my husband "with all his love".
- a good talk to a friend. Solid like a rock.
- seing father and son coming from school, in the drizzling grey rain, talking to each other.
- an unexpected gentleness by a complete stranger just before Christmas.
- the red light of a winter sunset at 4 p.m., reflected on a grey concrete wall.
- the "to be continued" at the bottom of the list.