i love watching lectures on youtube from fields i never study formally. i love regularly listening to people who have spent decades thinking about something i have only just encountered on a random afternoon. the world is far larger than the small corner of it i happen to inhabit
I used to think that holding your tongue was a sign of maturity, but I realized that a true sign of growth and maturity is being able to vocalize your feelings in an appropriate manner even if you are angry. Holding your tongue just fosters unexpressed feelings that lead to
I needed to move a sofa.
I mentioned this to an American. He said, "You know anybody with a truck?"
I did not know anybody with a truck.
He looked at me with real concern. Not pity. Concern. The way you look at a man who has told you he does not have a name.
"You gotta know somebody with a truck."
I asked how one acquires such a person.
He said, "You just do."
This is the third time I have received that answer in this country. It is the answer to everything here. You just do. There is no process. There is only the eventual fact of having.
He said, "Ask Kevin."
I do not know a Kevin. He said Kevin like I should. He said it the way you say a shared uncle.
I met Kevin four days later. Kevin owns a truck. Kevin does not own a truck for himself. Nobody owns a truck for themselves. Kevin owns a truck for a fifteen mile radius.
Inside I said: THIS MAN HAS TAKEN A VOW. HE DID NOT ANNOUNCE IT. HE SIMPLY PURCHASED A BED AND ACCEPTED THE CONSEQUENCES.
Kevin arrived on Saturday. He brought the truck. He also brought a second man.
I had not asked for a second man.
The second man's name is Tony. Tony came because Kevin came. Tony did not know me. Tony did not ask what we were moving. Tony brought gloves.
They moved the sofa in eleven minutes.
I offered them money. Both of them laughed at the same time, which felt rehearsed and was not.
I asked what I owed them.
Kevin said, "Buy the pizza."
That is the price. That is the entire economy. The truck costs one pizza and the pizza is not negotiable and the pizza is also not expensive and everyone knows what size.
Inside I said: THE FEE IS FIXED ACROSS THE ENTIRE NATION AND WAS SET BY NO ONE.
We ate on the floor because the sofa was against the wall and none of us wanted to be the first to sit on it.
Tony told me his daughter plays soccer. I asked if she is good. He said, "She's aggressive."
I still think about that.
Three weeks later, Kevin texted me.
"You free Sunday? Helping Tony move a fridge."
He did not ask if I wanted to. He informed me of a fridge.
Inside I said: I HAVE BEEN CALLED UP. I DID NOT ENLIST. THE PAPERS WERE FILED ON MY BEHALF.
I went. I moved the fridge. I have no truck. I contributed only arms.
Afterward, a man I had never met asked me if I knew anybody with a truck.
I said, "Yeah, I got a guy."
I have a guy.
I am somebody's guy now, too. Tony has told two people about me.
He describes me as "the guy who's strong for his size."
I have never been prouder of a sentence in my life.
A 10 year-old boy from Japan discovered that butterflies can remember their time as caterpillars.
Jo Nagai noticed his caterpillars still loved him after turning into butterflies, and the affection he had for them led to a genuine scientific discovery.
Bhe vivre avec une personne atteinte d Alzheimer c’est exactement ça. La première fois ou mon pere m’a dit « vous êtes qui » avec les yeux remplis de peur… gt a un pas de l’arrêt cardiaque hein
Coming to understand that for me, words can permanently change how safe a relationship feels. I believe that there are lines that should never be crossed, even in the middle of an argument.
a regulated nervous system isn't quiet. it's responsive. it laughs loud in restaurants. it cries at commercials. it gets a full body chill from a song it hasn't heard in years. people mistake numbness for peace because numbness is easier to manage. but real peace has a pulse. it moves through you instead of around you.
I know, with increasing precision, what I want my life to contain. Meaningful work. Financial ease. A home that feels expansive and alive. Books everywhere. A table with people around it. Work that travels further than I do. Time to think. Time to write.
This is why I like a little crooked. A little bruised. A little lost. Those who've had to crawl out of darkness, alone and bleeding; know to celebrate the gifts of nature just a little bit more. The wind on the trees, the sun on the shoulders. A little light everyday.