On Monday morning, I spent three hours writing about cultivating empathy in the face of COVID-19.
By Monday evening, I was ranting to my husband about a particular group of people,
a divergence that didn’t amuse me until Tuesday morning.
For months now, I’ve half-heartedly worked on making a habit of morning “RPMs”: Read, Pray, Meditate. The days I begin thusly are often the most manageable of all, a fact that isn’t always persuasive to my 4 a.m. self: “Do I really want to RPM, or do I want to just stay here in bed and half-doze until the kids wake up? I mean, both of these things are good for me, right?”
Until this week, half-dozing has tended to win this morning battle within myself. Fortunately, I chose wisely this Tuesday morning, grumbling as I climbed out of bed and went to find my healing books. Continue reading “safer”
A few years ago, my husband introduced me to author Neil Postman. I developed what my sister calls an “academic crush” on Postman, special ordering and reading almost every book he wrote.
Postman taught me many things, foremost among them that “perspective” should most accurately be considered a verb. Since reading Postman, I have aimed to perspective better, and cherished those teachers–local and global–who help me improve my perspectiving skills.
(WordPress’s spellcheck, not having read Postman, informs me “perspectiving” is not a valid word. Little does it know … !)
In late 2017, I checked out Antifragile from my local library and promptly academically crushed on its author, Nassim Nicholas Taleb. While Postman introduced me to some of the currently underappreciated wisdom of the ancients who paved the way for us, Taleb got irreverently explicit about it. Continue reading “On Perspectiving Crushes & True Belonging”