Raw food is not for me. Reinstating random strangers’ faith in humanity seems to be.

Strange yet nevertheless dynamic weekend. It started with a raw food supper (that I went to without knowing that was the deal) on Friday eve. It is so not my scene. I am not at all drawn to the monastic purity thing when it comes to food, and even less interested in denial as a general life principle.

It sat like a heap of cold, slippery mud in my stomach, and I felt queasy for hours afterwards. In one of my attempts to keep my metabolism going (walking) I very briefly caught the eye of a guy walking past. Upon which he made an on-the-spot, obviously intuitive decision, did a 90-degree turn and came up to me. That sort of thing can be quite iffy, and is frequently a cause for keeping your fast footwork (mental and physical) on the ready.

But for some reason, it didn’t feel like there was any particular cause for concern, so I stayed put. He (I think his name was Trevor) had just come back from Italy after working there for seven months, gone for a drink with some friends in a gay pub, and had his wallet stolen. This really knocked his confidence in people here – he was quite distraught and felt he had a very poor welcome home. Fair enough.

He promptly burst into tears, I gave him a big hug, and we chatted for a bit. He seemed like a well-meaning, slightly ditzy and very open person. Before taking leave, he said I had given him back his faith in humanity, and called me an angel (well, he was a little tipsy). If that is what it takes (and sometimes it seems to be), it would really be quite easy to make the world an at least somewhat better place.

A simple act of human kindness can go a long way. All it takes is measuring out trust a little more generously. I genuinely think we have more to lose than to gain from too rigorous mistrust, and more to gain than to lose from trusting where it seems to be no reason not to. And it is far more rewarding to lift someone’s day than to spoil it.

I also happened upon an excellent Guatemalan rum called Ron Zacapa Centenario at the Tin Drum. I bumped into my acupuncturist, who was enjoying some very holistic booze and cigarettes there. Well, he does do a lot of ‘good’ stuff too, so the addition of booze and cigarettes makes the picture whole, and therefore holistic. I like his approach. We were discussing Taoism, integration and ‘flow’ (as per Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s concept), and savouring this truly delicious spirit.

I slept abominably bad, which is quite out of character. Couldn’t catch up in the morning, so I did lots of reading – chomped my way through half of The Ambiguity of Play by Brian Sutton-Smith.

Aidan’s party on Saturday night was fun. The Snake Pit crowd were there in force, and it was really lovely to catch up with them all. Karen is blooming, and looking like she is the wrong mother-to-be to cross. Good for her. She wants to meet up and talk performance, which would be fun so I said yes, let’s.

I had a truly terrible night’s sleep the previous night, and was running on petrol fumes but kept up remarkably well even so. His brother Pascal, who is Aidan’s spitting image though larger and bulkier, was very funny – they are seven brothers and sisters (Irish) and apparently they are all pretty much like that, the life and soul of the party. Family get-togethers must be hilarious.

Earlier in the day I spent the afternoon with Sarah D (who is back to deep red hair, true to form), and was reminded what an eminent rock of good sense and eminent humanity she is. In a non-standard-issue kind of way.

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