discontinuity

Ever since this blog went into hibernation – or, more properly, given the second to last post before nothing happened for a long time, into shutdown – in October, I was wondering if and how this blog would restart. I don't have an answer. In any case, this opening sentence sounds excessively grand. I didn't wonder much about it at all. When I did, Syria popped into my mind. Around Christmas, I almost sat down and punched some of the thoughts that kept rolling around my head into the MacBook that was traveling with me. But then the snow was glistening fresh from the trees of the Black Forest and Flucha wanted to go on a walk into the white void, and what difference would my words make anyway? The world will keep turning no matter, grinding remorselessly, shredding to pitiful bits the people that were, moments ago, living their lives peacefully and not asking for much. My shock and exasperation are irrelevant. They find no release.

My words make a difference only to myself. I've kept the blog for eight years now, mostly to have flag posts for memory when my brain isn't enough. I can go back, read a post from way back, recall what triggered it and oftentimes closely related events, encounters, even feelings. Moonwalking with Einstein, quickly read over Christmas and since recommended to anyone who'd listen, builds entirely on the concept of memorizing by anchoring, of making little things big to make them memorable. Reviewing the book was another thought I had of how to restart the blog.

I could also write about an almost perfect Christmas, a week with Flucha in the snowy woods, the traditions that were started last year and diligently followed this year. The Christmas meal alone would be worth a post but then it did so last year already and didn't get one. Let's call it another new tradition.

In the end I have nothing to restart this blog with because I'm not sure I want to restart it. But a new year has begun and just emptying the book bar on the side without writing anything at all felt a bit silly. So there you go, it's just housekeeping.

Happy New Year!