What is the most joyful language in the world?

I have just come from an osteopathic appointment where I spoke French for an hour … for me, French allows me to lose myself; it’s as if the wide, low, three-rail farm gates leading to an expanse of my brain not used in the everyday have swung open on oiled hinges.

To speak French is satisfying; chocolate cake-level satisfaction for me …

It is a beautiful language; poetic, fluid, melodic, elegant …

… but it is not necessarily a joyful language.

What is the most joyful language in the world? What is the most joyful culture in the world?

What do I think that ‘joy’ even is?

 

 

Acquaintances are low-fat yoghurt

… well, not literally – more figuratively … stay with me – I’ll explain …

So last year, I moved – house, neighbourhood and state, job and sector … no point in doing things by eighths, quarters or halves …

It has involved lots of ‘new’, and lots of ‘change’. While I crave change … need it … the thought of it makes me uncomfortable in precisely equal measure.

Which means that when I do plunge, it is belly-flop sized as opposed to pin drop … and the scope is partly in retaliation for too long a period without change.

So – 2017 : new people, new places, new headspace, new ‘normal’ …

And – 2018 : a clear understanding that, my world with just me is functional; my world with people with whom I can be myself is atom-level satisfying.

And that’s the clear takeaway from the weekend past. At the moment, I have

YoplaitStrawberry

acquaintances in Melbourne. Acquaintances are like low-fat yoghurt – technically they sustain but sometimes they serve to highlight that which is missing.

Because friends ask those questions that they already know the part-answer to. They prod and poke and scratch the surface …

And I know that all friendship takes time and I know that my friendships are ones that are few but lasting … but after having a weekend of friends, I am concluding that :

> friends that ask ‘how are you’ and wait for the response that they’ve already half-discerned = farm-fresh yoghurt with live cultures.

 

So – happiness will be partially dependent on friends.

So – I need to make friends ….

How does one go about making friends at the age of 39???

 

And today I did something …

Think of the foundations of yesterday – gym at 6am and then a day stretching in front of me, wide open with possibility …

And, instead of curling inwards – I curled outwards …

Walking up the street in early-summer sun to a furniture sale.

Walking down the street with a Danish side table in brushed metal.

Tram-hopping – decision-making – decision-changing – grass-lying – music listening – grocery-shopping – contract-drafting – yoga-going …

noun-verb

alchemy-sensing …

and pleasure-giving …

The Journey to ‘Here’

I feel slightly fraudulent …

… because I don’t feel as ‘pushed’ as I was a year ago; and not even a quarter of that ‘swallowed-whole’ feeling of 12 years ago.

I remember both … but at a distance.

So – can I write about my current ‘location’ now? When a previous one has been so much more ‘reader-worthy’?

… while I’m not back in the suffocating world of self-imposed and self-regulated expectations with self-rated outcomes (generally ‘not-quite-enough’), my current space is not not in the same general vicinity.

I have landed back at a cross-roads where I can hesitate a little longer or plough headlong down the unknown path … which has the allure that only the unknown can have … until it becomes known.

But can I truly write about something so mundane? Can I be a writer of ‘non-critical life-assessment’?

Pfft … why not … let’s see what happens …

May as well jump and splash for a while – just to see …