He could be ruined again and again by hope.
– Michael Chabon, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay
I am grateful for hope, despite the fact that it has betrayed me over and over. I’ve tried to extinguish it to make things easier for myself, but it always lives in my heart.
I wrote this to Margo of the Three Weeks newsletter, who asked that her readers tell her something they’re grateful for. In return, she sent me a book of Stefan Zweig stories, a postcard, and some candy. It was a worthwhile reward.
Everyone has their own project that they’re doing, mostly, like, for themselves, you know? Just so that they can accomplish something.
Christian Flores, you are an inspiration.
“You are my ‘stuff’ guy.”
“You’re so fucking handsome.”
“You might be my smartest friend.”
“I think the thing that connects everyone here is how much they love Jesse.”
Cristiano Ronaldo kicked the soccer ball, but he may as well have kicked me in the stomach. The only thing about which I am fiercely and unrepentantly patriotic is also the only thing at which American exceptionalism has never allowed this nation to unconditionally succeed.
I really, really, really don’t like doing laundry.
My personal philosophy has long been to not regret. My basis for this is fairly simple: given the assumption that the total outcome of your life’s decisions has led you to where you are, if you are happy, then you have nothing to regret. After all, even the bad or “wrong” decisions you made were part of what got you to a happy place, so there is no reason to regret them even if you recognize that they were incorrect.
I certainly don’t mean for this to be the sort of thing that everyone takes to heart; there are dozens of reasons for any given person to disagree with me, even if they are by my standard perfectly happy. However, for me, it has worked. I have made plenty of incorrect decisions in my life, but the place where I resided was, after a fair number of bumpy spots, generally happy.
[This entry is the fourth for #reverb10, an online initiative to reflect on the year and manifest what’s next. Today’s prompt is to write about what I did to cultivate a sense of wonder in my life this year.]
Wonder is such a strange concept for me. I do not usually feel wonder in any sense that I think of the word; my idea of “wonder” is that sense you get when you are a child and you find out that something you did not know was possible is, in fact, possible.
[This entry is the second for #reverb10, an online initiative to reflect on the year and manifest what’s next. Today’s prompt is to figure out what gets in the way of my writing and what I can do to eliminate it.]
To wonder what I do each day that does not contribute to my writing is to wonder what it is, in fact, that does contribute to my writing.
