This morning is so peaceful. Probably because I have the knowledge that I have two weeks vacation starting right now. But as I look around this morning at my cozy warm house….my Tannenbaum lit up with Christmas cheer…presents to others and to me sitting under the Christmas tree…stockings hung by the chimney with care…listening to radiohead string quartet music and badly drawn boy about a boy soundtrack….everything just seems that it is as it should be. The stress of fall is over, and I patiently and gladly wait for the chaos of spring to begin. But this moment, and perhaps this moment only is cherished for its quiet restfulness. Its ability to exist without drama, without any desire to bring attention to itself. It is just there…waiting for someone to discover it.

I know this is not a novel idea. But it struck me that most the great movies are about yearning for something you don’t have, or mourning something that you have lost. This is where the story occurs…and yet this is where happiness isn’t. The things that are the most interesting are when there is drama, where there is complaining, or pain…this is what the great stories, the interesting blogs, are about. So often we wish our lives were like the movies. And some of us live in this arena, and make the movies true for our lives. We don’t allow ourselves to say that life as it is, is okay. To be content. This is what we long for, and yet never allow ourselves to have.
A life that is calm, happy, cozy and content, really holds little story.

Do we really need more stories? This question was asked in the latest book I am reading by David Lodge, and I start to wonder if there isn’t value to the question. Why do we need more stories to be written? Stories, especially of little lasting value…ones where the motto is out of sight out of mind. I read a lot, and I would have to say that half or more of the stories, even valuable stories that I read are forgotten. So why do we need more? The rise of the middle class has brought with it an abundance of books, and magazines …most of which we could do with out, but feel we need. Why? For entertainment, for relaxation; perhaps stimulation of the brain matter. How much does it really satisfy? And why do we read so much junk when we could spend our whole lives reading, and still not get through the stuff that really actually does make us think?
Random thoughts….