Monthly Archives: February 2015
We pursue any available detour, texting, Snapchatting, Netflixing, to avoid the work of attention. It is slowly robbing us of joy, of that mysterious dimension.
The advance of modern science has also shaped our sensibilities in such a way that we don’t have room for mystery or a reality infused with another reality.
It’s this inertia that, very possibly, will find us waking up in ten years in a job we never really planned on, thinking, How did I get here? This was supposed to be for the summer.
In a strange twist of fate, English has now become my first language, and I’m trying to bring my Korean up to a similarly fluent level.
Maybe that’s what I don’t like about the word “obligation.” It implies requirement. I have to do it. And that doesn’t seem very loving to me.
But in the end, I think we’re all so wrong. So long as we keep yelling. So long as we keep denouncing each others’ thoughts and words and actions as evil.
As we have witnessed in countless places, economic crises tend to lead to civil unrest and increased anger towards the establishment. Not in Korea.
One may wonder what sort of daily tasks are deemed worthy by someone with so much practice spending days. For Alfie, the answer is knitting sweaters for tiny injured penguins.
Father, God, I thank you for your son, for this meal, and for the elders’ wives who bring those really great appetizers on the Lord’s Supper Sundays.
There have been days at home alone in which I have not once spoken aloud. Sometimes I notice this and say something just to use my voice, only to find it thick, musty, and weak.
I raise a wistful glass to the days when neighborhood paper routes provided a bicycle-mounted kid’s first taste of financial independence.
10. Irresistible Grace: When, understanding that you have done nothing to earn it, you take the last scoop of cheesy potatoes at the church potluck.
I wonder about the sins that God really cares about, and I convince myself that $2.00 probably doesn’t really matter to God, right? But probably it does.
When the professor starts class, I finally take a breath again. I’m free. No pressure. All I’ve got to do is sit here and not fart.
For each item you own, hold it in your hands and ask yourself, “Does this spark joy?” If the answer is “yes!”, you keep it. If the answer is “no,” you get rid of it. It’s that simple.
And I can’t stop imagining a world—an extraordinary, beautiful world—in which we all have the reed of goodness at our centers instead of a spine.
I can buy many cookies with $250. So when I shelled it out, my tummy ached with the loss of thousands of cookies I was hypothetically never going to eat.
You risk crossing a busy street. You risk asking questions. You risk being wrong, and hurting people you love, and you risk being right, and doing the same thing.
If you’re confident in yourself, the crowd is confident in you. So maybe starting off with, “This is my first time doing this!” wasn’t a good idea.
6. The Lego Movie wasn’t nominated for Best Animated Feature. I think everyone who has seen it knows immediately that this is a – SNUB
Dinner guests jumped out of their seats and looked around in fright but we shrugged casually, as if nothing had happened. “Oh, that’s just the Womp-Womp.”
It spoke to Plath the suicidal, Keruouc the drunk, Hemingway the shotgunned, and—Snyder, voice of Buddhist Beats, who did not die of lead or alcohol, but found peace in tin cups and axe handles.
I’m three days into the semester, and I’m dreading the day my academic load catches up with me and I can’t sit down and enjoy some crime at the end of the day.
But like Bilbo returning to Bag End, sometimes you return home and your neighbors are rifling through your linen and walking out the door with your cutlery.
I check the box. I type my name. I submit the application. Because time is up—I have to grab my apron and rush off to work; I have to pull on my boots and walk the dog.
In my mind I’m goin’ to Trivia Crack/Can’t you see the questions?/Can’t you just feel the Wheel spin?/Ain’t it just like a friend of mine/To beat me from behind?
I sit there in the dark, in front of the cake and ice cream and prosecco, feeling like I’m doing something wrong, listening intently and wondering when I’ll be joined.