Author: Liz Dawes
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This week Liz Dawes reflects on the events in Paris

When atrocities happen, like the devastating attacks in Paris (and barely two days earlier, the bombing in Beirut), it feels for a moment like the world should stop.  The outpouring of horror and sadness dwarfs everything.  Life is violently and shockingly fractured, and to carry on as normal feels disrespectful; like we don’t care enough to stop playing with fripperies and see what’s really happening.

So, I find myself sitting in my local on a Sunday afternoon, trying to decide what to write for this week’s “Just Saying”.  I have something to tell you about knickers and haircuts and an excruciating story about the time I sort-of-met the prospective step-mother of my kids that, under other circumstances, might make you laugh out loud.  But today, in the face of such heartbreak, it all seems a bit futile.  Perhaps I ought to write something about standing up to violence, or holding your loved ones closer.  There is a sense that anything said should be profound and important; something that expresses our collective grief and makes a difference.

What, though, would I say?  I’m neither a political commentator, nor a journalist, and feel fundamentally unqualified to lecture anyone on the morality of anything.  I’m sad, yes.  Horrified, of course. Concerned and desperate that there seems to be no end to the utter misery endured by millions, and scared as turmoil and unrest creep predictably closer to our doorstep.  I could stop writing gags to make you laugh for a while and try to express all of that, like the myriad better-qualified voices.

The thing is, that’s not what Fighting Fifty is for, is it?  Our wide-ranging community of (mostly) women come together to discuss issues, raise health awareness, learn about beauty products and feel good about themselves.  You also come here for fun, frequently at my expense, but that’s entirely my own doing so I forgive you.

What I’ve noticed about Fighting Fifty is that it makes people happier.  Looked at in this way, I’m not sure it’s entirely unimportant.  Whether you feel better after a course of therapy, a run in the park or a tube of lipstick, the key to a happier life is finding something that makes you smile.  Frivolity can do that.  Silliness can do that.  Handbags and face cream and kitchen gadgets can do that. Moreover, it’s actually ok.  It’s not that I think we should ignore the bigger issues, or refuse to help whenever and wherever we can; it’s more that removing everything light-hearted from our lives sounds like a pretty miserable way to exist.

The response of hundreds of social media users, on hearing of the devastation in Paris, was to insist that they would visit soon – to meet with friends, wander the streets, nose round shops and eat in the restaurants.  They wouldn’t stop in their tracks, shocked and frightened, but carry on as normal, because the removal of an ordinary, happy and sometimes frivolous life is exactly what terrorists want, and exactly what Parisians don’t want to lose.

So perhaps I should do the same.  Next week will be as silly and light-hearted as ever.  Not because we don’t care that life can be brutal, but because we care about creating a bit of happiness when we can.

I might even tell you about that excruciating, almost-naked meeting with the (possibly) step-mother-to-be…