Or So I Thought

I thought that I would feel more in touch with nature after. Like I had somehow participated in an older way of living, or taken on some inherited, but forgotten role in the forest. But instead I felt sick.

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It’s About Time

Time isn’t food, money, a place, or a feeling, or an object or a person—it just is. Despite a wealth of idioms, it’s still hard to talk about time and harder still to savor it.

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Figs

Meanwhile, I am childless, jobless, and directionless. I don’t feel that I’ve wasted my time, and I don’t feel dismayed, but I’m also tired of feeling crushed under the weightlessness of potential and gawking at figs like stars I could never align.

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An Object Lesson

Once someone no longer needs unemployment assistance because they’ve gotten a job, things should be much easier: more money, more independence, more control, more freedom. But DeParle wants to show us just how much harder it gets after welfare.

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Chocolate Milk

The smoothies are revoltingly healthful. One recipe, dubbed “The Beginner,” calls for pear, banana, pineapple, avocado, and a full six cups of kale.

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Writing the Where

These three things struck me about the way Gopnik writes about place. Perhaps they contain a few lessons that will help us in writing about where we’re from, where we are, and where we’re yet to go.

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A Goodness

A few days later I was back in Seattle and it felt like coming home, like jumping into your bed’s cold sheets and warming them as you fall asleep. I feel bad about that, for loving two places at once.

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When A Church Breaks

When a church breaks, her people realize they broke her themselves. By not acknowledging the extent of our own broken fingers and bent hearts, we pursued something that might not have been the gospel.

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Works of Light

The light pooled on the horizon, stretching like taffy, growing and receding. When it faded away in one direction, we looked behind us to see it growing in another corner of the sky. It seemed to breathe.

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Of Mice and (Wo)men

Three days later, an industrious little nibbler gets into my bag of white cheddar popcorn. We stash our remaining food in Rubbermaids, bleach everything, and riddle our kitchen with even more mousetraps.

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Proving Sylvia Plath Wrong

I left that professor’s office thinking: I am the kind of person who has the potential to do anything but the proclivity to do nothing. I am the kind of person who is paralyzed by choice, instead of empowered by it.

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On Being Informed

In fifth grade I manually calculated eighteen to the fifty-fourth power because I thought of myself as a “knower” (people thought multiplication was all that back in the day).

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Perils of a Bargain

The moral of this parable? Never buy a computer. They never should have been invented. Never buy a computer on a bargain because bargains are a lie. Everyone in the sales world is out to rip you off.

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