January 24

Perhaps you look back on a strenuous time with a strange fondness. You wouldn't want it back. Still, you miss something that was there then.

Back then much was simple, though little was easy. What to do next followed from the situation. You didn't have to ask whether your day had been meaningful, because it was full anyway. Your tiredness had a reason, and in the evening you knew what it had been for.

When things grow quieter, a different kind of effort sets in. No one asks anything in particular of you. You have time and room, but with them you have to decide for yourself what matters. A difficult situation sets you a task. A comfortable one puts a question to you, and questions are harder to work through.

That is why the longing for the hard times can't be entirely trusted. It may be a wish for clarity. It may just as well be the wish to be rid of that question, because the circumstances have already answered it.

On a free Sunday with no obligations whatsoever, you sometimes notice how quickly you find yourself something urgent.