I couldn't write very often in 2020. I had to confront the self-help myth I believed: we need to pursue productivity at all costs, and optimise ourselves at every turn. In doing do, I learned that writing less is better for me.
Love Letters: David Farrier
Without Twitter or Instagram, and a newsfeed blocker on Facebook, it can be hard to connect with what’s topical, so I was delighted to hear that David had started a Substack. David’s work lights up my inbox because he and I share a particular interest. In his greater quest to understand human motivations, David seriously scrutinises conspiracy theories.
With apathy or with intention?
What's it going to be? A choice that happened or a choice that you made?
Love Letters: Anne Lamott
Anne is as fiercely determined as Christopher in The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. She’s as kind as The Queen in A Bug’s Life. She’s as funny as Mark Watney in The Martian, if not funnier. She’s as humble as Samwise in The Lord of the Rings.
Is it possible just to ‘switch off’?
Let’s be honest: “switch off” is a misleading phrase. There is no switch that would cause us not to keep thinking about what’s on our mind. That is why people often remark that the first few days of a holiday do not really feel like a holiday at all. We cannot turn concentration or care on and off.
Truth can change
How do you look at what you used to think, who you used to be, with kindness and curiosity rather than disdain and embarrassment?
Reflecting
Do I trust everyone and hang all hope on just remembering when we get to July and rip into planning? Is “just remembering” a sound business strategy, ever?
“This is precisely the time when artists go to work.”
I wasn’t going to get up today, haven’t felt like writing all week. Where there used to be space to reflect, there seems now to be space only for reaction. For news and anxiety and the barely held capacity to adjust to the new normal, each day.