Summer weekend in Michigan with the babes. Yoga and flower crowns balanced with fancy jello shots and boxed wine. Milky coffee outside in the morning, in a place so much calmer than Chicago. I'm thankful for this new spot to visit. I'm thankful for these women.
Now we are ready to look at something pretty special
It is a duck
Riding the ocean a hundred feet beyond the surf
As he cuddles in the swells.
There’s a big heaving in the Atlantic
And he is part of it.
He can rest while the Atlantic heaves
Because he rests in the Atlantic.
Probably he doesn't know how large the ocean is
And neither do you.
But he realizes it somewhere and what does he do, I ask you?
He sits down in it.
He reposes in the immediate as if it were infinity
Which it is.
That is religion, and the duck has it.
How about you?
- Tara Brach on Cultivating Equanimity (Duck Meditation)
While it is fresh in our minds (in the Northern hemisphere), would you take the time to send me 1–3 sentences about Spring? I'm specifically referring to the season, but your responses can be as literal or vague as you wish. I'd really love to hear—and, perhaps, to compile.
Both emails and comments will do.
But the coffee's good, and I never tire of songs about drinking and heartache.
And as soon as the mountains were built, they began, just as ineluctably, to wear away. For all their seeming permanence, mountains are exceedingly transitory features. . . . Right now the Appalachians are shrinking on average by 0.03 millimeters per year. They have gone through this cycle at least twice, possibly more—rising to awesome heights, eroding away to nothingness, rising again . . .
–Bill Bryson, A Walk in the Woods
Tomorrow may or may not be better, but at least it will be different.
READING: The Goldfinch and The Lover
WATCHING: Kubrick's entire filmography (slowly) with Sam
LISTENING: The War on Drugs's new single
COOKING: The Canal House's Japanese-inspired breakfasts from Bon Appetit
I'm going to turn the music up, light a candle, pour a glass of port—celebrate this January darkness. Happy Sunday.
Overall, this year is about the ritual for me, about cherishing this strange existence.
I love you all. Happy new year.
• develop a daily yoga practice
• the same for a meditation practice
• read 50 books
• post more thoughts and photos
• attend a cultural event at least once a week
• take better advantage of seasonal produce
• start backpacking
• more water; more salads
• make my office a peaceful place to work
• put a little more effort into my appearance
• aromatherapy + herbalism
• classical music
• be more thoughtful with my friends and family
• keep ahead of my workload
• be rational about my stresses—let go, love
• put more emphasis on—and create more beneficial—daily rituals