The outdoor skating rink in the village is ready. Winter has been slow to plant its feet, but it’s done, and done well: get your feet wet… I play hockey with the children (including one of mine) from the village.
We supper quickly, and hop at the recreation center. We make the teams by mixing the sticks in the center of the ice and a young person, with his eyes closed, throws them from one side to the other, alternating. We join our sticks and that’s what it is. Sometimes the forces are unequal (some play two letters and are very strong, including a girl who clashes well some guys), so we influence chance a little by sometimes making an exchange. But it is rare.
Still, on returning from the “game” one evening this week, there is a forgotten pitchfork in the snowy vegetable garden. Stiff jelly. Impossible to get out, welded to the ground to the earth’s core. Like in Merlin and the Magic Sword. Magic that we would also need in these times. Hold the ramp well for the rest, it will stir a little.
From memory, it has been said for 30 years, like a prophecy, that we will solve the problems of the health care system. Inflation is a hormone we fear, interest rates, a chimera, mobility in Montreal, an aberration (as much for cars as for public transport, or for its slowness on the one hand and its deadly speed elsewhere). The justice system is a fearless scarecrow, the cost of living is shitty, the REM hasn’t transported a single passenger yet that the star of the Caisse de dépôt is on the way to extinction, the classes are overflowing and we add more people, the students no longer know how to speak French, on the generalist radio live, either, French is not always happy (for some, it speaks as it thinks), ALL the ministers of Education will supposedly solve the problem of education, there are too many tanks, not enough immigrants, too many immigrants, everyone is anxious to the thousandth power, the others are anxious and those who can cure these evils are exhausted. Too many antidepressants. Too much ADHD. Cole Caufield is injured. There is snow in the streets (crime, it’s winter!). The bi-weekly oil changes will rot the universe and the rats will eat the streets and form a new political party. Global warming, again, is acting up. Lack of money and will…
There was nothing left but the bubbling to escape a bit from this shitty world and now we add a veneer to the guilt of drunkenness. We spend too much time in front of our screens. Culture, heritage and the past are to the green devil. All the elected officials in office will solve all the problems of society and the others, in the antechamber of promises, will be critical in the expectation of doing the same. Come on, THE buddies.
I smile here. The messengers are panicked. In fact, on a daily basis, it seems to me that this does not reflect the state of affairs. There seems to be a distortion in the correspondence of news, info and social debates.
There are also people who smile and laugh at the alarmist relay of the news, like those people who are euphoric after a CH victory and depressed in defeat. Fortunately. Otherwise, we should seriously ask ourselves some questions about our morale. In view of what we seem to be doing, are there any reasons to continue? To rejoice here and there like a silly snowflake in a storm? To paraphrase a Russian friend: a spoonful of gas will ruin a barrel of syrup, and a spoonful of syrup will do nothing to the barrel of gas.
It’s called negativity bias. And sometimes it allows a better adaptation to the environment. Our brain naturally prioritizes the threat to happiness over the rest of our lives. The ratio, we learn from studies, is: five good patents will be canceled by a single bad one. We prefer people’s faults to their qualities. And the media, and other networks, have understood too well the equation and the need for attention and ratings at the base of their profit. Crushing and misfortune pay more, in numbers. But now it ends up frustrating. By dint of carrying bad news, in this form, we will sooner than later make everything go even worse for real. As a result, the threats are exaggerated and the opportunities are underestimated. In a survival situation, such as war, famine or imminent danger, it can help. In our contemporary lives, it is a brake on happiness. We can certainly do better. Change position or cut off messengers.
It is said that eating a huge amount of pancakes on Candlemas would bring abundance for the coming year. Am ready for magic. The shape of the pancakes is meant to recall the sun and the light, which are making a comeback. February 2 has just passed, today is Sunday and it’s the real pancake day. To pancakes, citizens! Personally, I prefer pancakes because they soak up more maple syrup. Until floating in the syrup, like a huge middle finger to the general atmosphere of gloom.
Sometimes too, when we come back from the ice rink, we listen sports fans, and even if we lost, we smile. And this spring, the fork will come out as soon as I need it.