It may be that when we no longer know which way to go that we have come to our real journey.
--Wendell Berry
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Monday, March 30, 2015
70,001: how to have a new thought
I.
Our brain thinks between 50,000 to 70,000 thoughts per day.
Over 95% of these thoughts are the same from day to day.
It is the epitome of: Wherever you go, there you are.
It's why changing our outer environment doesn't matter when our inner loop is traveling with us, adjusting the outer world to our expectations.
II.
I have been thoroughly enjoying Maira Kalman's illustrations for The Elements of Style.
She takes their (there? they're?) demonstration sentences and gives them a picture.
Example:
He noticed the large stain right in the center of the rug.
And
Rich, ornate prose is hard to digest, generally unwholesome, and sometimes nauseating.
(More here.)
III.
IV.
Wouldn't it be great to get 6% new thoughts each day, by starting a handful of thoughts with wouldn't it be great if...
I think it would be nice.
V.
Nice: A shaggy, all-purpose word. To be used sparingly in formal composition.
I think it would benice rather swell.
Our brain thinks between 50,000 to 70,000 thoughts per day.
Over 95% of these thoughts are the same from day to day.
It is the epitome of: Wherever you go, there you are.
It's why changing our outer environment doesn't matter when our inner loop is traveling with us, adjusting the outer world to our expectations.
II.
I have been thoroughly enjoying Maira Kalman's illustrations for The Elements of Style.
She takes their (there? they're?) demonstration sentences and gives them a picture.
Example:
He noticed the large stain right in the center of the rug.
And
Rich, ornate prose is hard to digest, generally unwholesome, and sometimes nauseating.
(More here.)
III.
One of Kalman’s favorite expressions is “Wouldn’t it be great if,” and this open-ended way of thinking has long shaped her creative life. By asking herself this very question not too long ago, she came up with the idea for her fourth major project coming out in October: a musical production of The Elements of Style.
--Catherine Hong, Mad About Maira
IV.
Wouldn't it be great to get 6% new thoughts each day, by starting a handful of thoughts with wouldn't it be great if...
I think it would be nice.
V.
Nice: A shaggy, all-purpose word. To be used sparingly in formal composition.
I think it would be
Sunday, March 29, 2015
What We Do With What We Are Given
We are given the raw goods (a life) and we choose certain things ( a love story, a spouse, parenthood ) and in all of this there are many unknowns.
Such as:
how will this turn out?
will anything go as expected?
Rarely does anything turn out as we expect.
Sometimes, it's way better.
Sometimes, it's something we could not have even conceived of including in a worry, so far from the realm of possibility did it seem.
This is a story about my cousin Sarah. I don't have many words beyond this.
Such as:
how will this turn out?
will anything go as expected?
Rarely does anything turn out as we expect.
Sometimes, it's way better.
Sometimes, it's something we could not have even conceived of including in a worry, so far from the realm of possibility did it seem.
This is a story about my cousin Sarah. I don't have many words beyond this.
Saturday, March 28, 2015
Beautiful Symmetry
I read a story yesterday---one of those truth is stranger than fiction stories that only can unfold after years have passed.
It immediately brought to mind an ancient Buddhist parable:
Once there was an old farmer who had worked his crops for many years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. "Such bad luck," they said sympathetically.
"Maybe," the farmer replied.
The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses.
"How wonderful," the neighbors exclaimed.
"Maybe," replied the old man.
The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune.
"Maybe," answered the farmer.
The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son's leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out.
"Maybe," said the farmer.
Non-ancient non-Buddhist story from NPR here.
It immediately brought to mind an ancient Buddhist parable:
Once there was an old farmer who had worked his crops for many years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. "Such bad luck," they said sympathetically.
"Maybe," the farmer replied.
The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses.
"How wonderful," the neighbors exclaimed.
"Maybe," replied the old man.
The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune.
"Maybe," answered the farmer.
The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son's leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out.
"Maybe," said the farmer.
Non-ancient non-Buddhist story from NPR here.
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
"To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else."
We do know this; Emily Dickinson chose to spend day after day in the same house, doing the same things---ordinary, seemingly unimportant things---for she seemed to know that there are wonderful possibilities in the most ordinary life if we just take notice.
--from Poetry For Young People: Emily Dickinson
--from Poetry For Young People: Emily Dickinson
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
Day 35
Life is this simple: We are living in a world that is absolutely transparent and the divine is shining through it all the time.
--Thomas Merton
--Thomas Merton
Friday, March 20, 2015
poem in your pocket
Today over lunch, I took in food and Ballistics, by Billy Collins.
I first encountered his poetry in a college Intro to Poetry class.
The professor, who had three names, and moved slowly, and spoke slowly, told a story of her days in graduate school. "My friends and I went on the Emily Dickinson diet for one month. We ate only food that was white." This was because it was legend that Emily Dickinson wore only white.
So my professor spent a month eating cauliflower, cheese, and white wine. I believe emphasis was on the latter two.
The first poem I wrote for her class was about a cow. I was called on to read it, under the shade of a tree, beneath which the entire class was seated, because she brought us outside a lot.
She required each student to memorize a poem, and recite it to the class.
I chose The Dead, by Billy Collins, loving glass bottom boats of heaven, and the image, wait, like parents, for us to close our eyes.
Coming back to a writer you like, that you've been away from, is like a reunion of sorts. A flood of how you encountered their words initially.
I found this interview with Billy Collins and loved it, from top to bottom. It speaks of integration, of the purpose of poetry, and how he too, had his students memorize a poem.
I first encountered his poetry in a college Intro to Poetry class.
The professor, who had three names, and moved slowly, and spoke slowly, told a story of her days in graduate school. "My friends and I went on the Emily Dickinson diet for one month. We ate only food that was white." This was because it was legend that Emily Dickinson wore only white.
So my professor spent a month eating cauliflower, cheese, and white wine. I believe emphasis was on the latter two.
The first poem I wrote for her class was about a cow. I was called on to read it, under the shade of a tree, beneath which the entire class was seated, because she brought us outside a lot.
She required each student to memorize a poem, and recite it to the class.
I chose The Dead, by Billy Collins, loving glass bottom boats of heaven, and the image, wait, like parents, for us to close our eyes.
Coming back to a writer you like, that you've been away from, is like a reunion of sorts. A flood of how you encountered their words initially.
I found this interview with Billy Collins and loved it, from top to bottom. It speaks of integration, of the purpose of poetry, and how he too, had his students memorize a poem.
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