I agree, and I think a great precursor to this form of thinking is curiosity. Curiosity is perhaps the best and healthiest way to gain perspective, which in turn helps us form our own opinions.
Not because we’re following the herd, and not because it’s the easy way out, but because we’ve genuinely considered and carefully weighed the counterviews before arriving at our own conclusions.
For years I posted pictures I took while walking my dog on Instagram and tagged them #beautyeverywhere. I didn’t live somewhere anymore beautiful than the next but I noticed little details: sunlight through a petal, dew drops on a leaf, colors. I posted them to keep them organized someplace and inspire others to notice the beauty everywhere. We get to choose what we notice, or learn to. I think being wired that way makes my life pretty great.
Side note: I was doing this while getting divorced, having gotten laid off and being stressed about money, and trying to survive my sister’s terminal battle with cancer. I learned to hold both simultaneously. Life is awful. Life is great. And everything changes.
When our ability to shape the external world is limited, our agency naturally shrinks to the immediate present and our local surroundings. Conversely, in eras of greater power, we expand our impact across vast spatial and temporal expanses. In today's overwhelming complexity, Stoicism remains the ultimate anchor, allowing us to navigate this uncontrollability by focusing our rational power on the only dimension we truly control.
The Athens line stuck with me: I've been staring at a reply that hasn't come, while what I can actually do is right in front of me. From what I looked up, trees grow almost anywhere, so the first log in Minecraft is just the nearest tree, and that's where I want to start.
“That our desire to be somewhere else is in fact a confession we are not content to be ourselves.” I recognized that confession this year, just wearing different clothes. For years I measured a day by output — slides finished, chats answered — until a machine arrived that could do most of that work faster than I could brief it. I quickly moved from one or two chats open to ten, briefing one, then another, then another, certain that was freedom. It wasn’t. I began by asking whether I was adding value at work. Now I’m asking what kind of life that work lets me actually experience. My younger self dreamed of being the author of it all. What I’ve become instead is the orchestrator — still deciding the direction, just no longer needing the next task finished to prove I was somewhere worth being.
I agree, and I think a great precursor to this form of thinking is curiosity. Curiosity is perhaps the best and healthiest way to gain perspective, which in turn helps us form our own opinions.
Not because we’re following the herd, and not because it’s the easy way out, but because we’ve genuinely considered and carefully weighed the counterviews before arriving at our own conclusions.
I agree completely. Curiosity is a theme I come back to again and again. It is a sign of vibrant aliveness.
For years I posted pictures I took while walking my dog on Instagram and tagged them #beautyeverywhere. I didn’t live somewhere anymore beautiful than the next but I noticed little details: sunlight through a petal, dew drops on a leaf, colors. I posted them to keep them organized someplace and inspire others to notice the beauty everywhere. We get to choose what we notice, or learn to. I think being wired that way makes my life pretty great.
Side note: I was doing this while getting divorced, having gotten laid off and being stressed about money, and trying to survive my sister’s terminal battle with cancer. I learned to hold both simultaneously. Life is awful. Life is great. And everything changes.
This is a beautiful practice, and stunningly one that any one can integrate into their lives. Thank you for sharing.
When our ability to shape the external world is limited, our agency naturally shrinks to the immediate present and our local surroundings. Conversely, in eras of greater power, we expand our impact across vast spatial and temporal expanses. In today's overwhelming complexity, Stoicism remains the ultimate anchor, allowing us to navigate this uncontrollability by focusing our rational power on the only dimension we truly control.
Thank you for writing truth in such a beautiful way!
You are very welcome, Dawn. Thank you for reading.
The Athens line stuck with me: I've been staring at a reply that hasn't come, while what I can actually do is right in front of me. From what I looked up, trees grow almost anywhere, so the first log in Minecraft is just the nearest tree, and that's where I want to start.
“That our desire to be somewhere else is in fact a confession we are not content to be ourselves.” I recognized that confession this year, just wearing different clothes. For years I measured a day by output — slides finished, chats answered — until a machine arrived that could do most of that work faster than I could brief it. I quickly moved from one or two chats open to ten, briefing one, then another, then another, certain that was freedom. It wasn’t. I began by asking whether I was adding value at work. Now I’m asking what kind of life that work lets me actually experience. My younger self dreamed of being the author of it all. What I’ve become instead is the orchestrator — still deciding the direction, just no longer needing the next task finished to prove I was somewhere worth being.
This is stellar, I had not heard of this, but the traditions that focus on the granularity of eating are ancient and varied. Thanks for this!