So, it's finally here. The Christmas break. After a lively autumn filled with deadlines, client meetings, executions, training, pitches, and development work. Not to mention the piles of laundry, dishes, everyday squabbles, and homework. But then one sat there, suddenly, in their Christmas break, with their Christmas gift book and had ... almost a bit of boredom. Or, one probably wasn't bored, correctly. Rather, one had a lot of time. Just sitting and staring. It's a contrast. Going from packed full days to complete stillness. But a rewarding contrast, really. Perhaps we should seek out more contrasts?
Because isn't it in the contrasts that we feel and experience? In that shift from one extreme to another. Like this: If every day, all year round, were gourmet and luxury – wouldn't there then be nothing special about lobster on New Year's Eve? No, it's the change from the everyday somewhat dull (but oh so practical) macaroni casserole that makes the charcuterie board on the weekend an extra touch of luxury. Surely, it's the contrast between the city's pulse and noise compared to the silence on a deserted mountain top that lets us perceive that silence so intensely, right into the marrow.
Yes, it's probably like Alfons Åberg's grandma chuckles when Alfons and Dad complain about having nothing to do. "It's gooood that you're boooored," she says. "If it was fun all the time, you wouldn't know it was fun!"
No, let's take Grandma Åberg's attitude to heart. Let's welcome and enjoy a truly sparse, dark, and money-saving January. And then let's notice if the next source of joy feels a bit extra special. It's worth a try, anyway.
Helena Österling af Wåhlberg Contrast enthusiast and Content Manager at Eventyr Nine Yards
