Oh, I feel this.
An updated version of Powers of Ten, based on current science. Fascinating.
“When they say Don’t I know you?
When they invite you to the party
remember what parties are like
Someone telling you in a loud voice
they once wrote a poem.
Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate.
If they say We should get together
It’s not that you don’t love them anymore.
You’re trying to remember something
too important to forget.
Trees. The monastery bell at twilight.
Tell them you have a new project.
It will never be finished.
When someone recognizes you in a grocery store
nod briefly and become a cabbage.
When someone you haven’t seen in ten years
appears at the door,
don’t start singing him all your new songs.
You will never catch up.
Walk around feeling like a leaf.
Know you could tumble any second.
Then decide what to do with your time.”
I rarely feel confident enough to give anyone advice about anything, but here's something small that has changed my life as a writer: a kindness log.
— Yohanca Delgado (@yodelnyc) December 3, 2021
Loving these instructions for keeping a Kindness Log.
(Thank you Annie)
Ok how about this:
No more billionaires. None.
After you reach $999 million, every red cent goes to schools and health care.
You get a trophy that says, “I won capitalism” and we name a dog park after you.
— Mikel Jollett (@Mikel_Jollett) March 22, 2020
This seems to be have been the theme of my 2021. If it’s not hard or I am not exhausted after accomplishing something I don’t entirely trust it. Enough.
I needed this humorous and visual comma rules refresher.
“I want to live
the rest of my life,
however long or short,
with as much sweetness
as I can decently manage,
loving all the people I love,
and doing as much as I can
of the work I still have to do.
I am going to write fire
until it comes out of my ears,
my eyes, my noseholes-everywhere.
Until it’s every breath I breathe.
I’m going to go out like a fucking meteor!”
– Audre Lourde
“Men are like waffles because they are better able to compartmentalize. They have little waffle squares which they pour syrupey information into. And each square can contain a different subject. Making it much easier for men to think of one thing and one thing only at a time.
Women on the other hand are spaghetti brains. Meaning all of the noodles of information touch each other. So while thinking of work, a woman can be thinking of the errands she has to run and what she’ll have for dinner and a myriad of other topics.”
Yes, this is a ridiculous simplification but it made me chuckle. Men are like Waffles, Women are like Spaghetti, by Bill and Pam Farrel
Dear White Parents offers an intimate view of enlightening, sometimes uncomfortable, family discussions focused on parents helping their children understand racism through current events and sharing their own stories about how they first became aware of racism.
The website Dear White Parents is a remarkable resource to help us raise an anti-racist generation. Have a look at the curated library of age-driven resources and discussion guides, as well as anti-racism workshops and discussions. I appreciate the work that went into this.
“There’s something just as inevitable as death. And that’s life. Think of the power of the universe… turning the Earth, growing trees. That’s the same power within you. If you’ll only have the courage and the will to use it.”
– Charlie Chaplin
(The embed code was disabled, click though to watch over on YouTube)
I am writing this post, with my bare feet firmly planted on grass, outside a Swiss farmhouse where I currently spend some vacation time. This documentary blew my mind and most likely explains why I have been craving so much time in nature, touching and being in close connection to soil.
“There is a faith in loving fiercely
the one who is rightfully yours,
especially if you have
waited years and especially
if part of you never believed
you could deserve this
loved and beckoning hand
held out to you this way.
I am thinking of faith now
and the testaments of loneliness
and what we feel we are
worthy of in this world.
Years ago in the Hebrides,
I remember an old man
who walked every morning
on the grey stones
to the shore of baying seals,
who would press his hat
to his chest in the blustering
salt wind and say his prayer
to the turbulent Jesus
hidden in the water,
and I think of the story
of the storm and everyone
waking and seeing
yet familiar figure
far across the water
calling to them
and how we are all
preparing for that
and that calling,
and that moment
we have to say yes,
except it will
not come so grandly
but more subtly
and intimately in the face
of the one you know
you have to love
so that when
we finally step out of the boat
toward them, we find
us, and everything confirms
our courage, and if you wanted
to drown you could,
but you don’t
after all this struggle
and all these years
you simply don’t want to
you’ve simply had enough
and you want to live and you
want to love and you will
walk across any territory
and any darkness
however fluid and however
dangerous to take the
one hand you know
belongs in yours.”