Indoorsy
There were whole virtual universes right in my very own living room. How could I think of leaving it? I guess I would go outside occasionally—when my thumbs cramped up from joysticks or my eyes dried up like craisins.
There were whole virtual universes right in my very own living room. How could I think of leaving it? I guess I would go outside occasionally—when my thumbs cramped up from joysticks or my eyes dried up like craisins.
Food, I think, is more than a culinary experience. Memories of good meals carry the same aromatic nostalgia of campfire smoke and fondly remembered perfume.
What too often gets lost in the shuffle is that baseball is also a game, and amidst all the dollars and all the media and all the debates, we should never forget that games are supposed to be exciting and fun.
What I do think I’m saying is that we all need time to wade into the scum of life, the crude wonder of being a breathing, embodied person. We need to strip down to just ourselves and swim out from there.
For that split second, I was out there, in nothingness. Nothing above me but air, nothing in front of me but endless expanse, nothing below me but mystery.
By mindlessly pitching organic material into the garbage can, I’ve ever-so-slightly interrupted the cycle that sustains life on this planet: when one organism dies, its molecules get broken down and rebuilt into the next generation of organisms.
Here, especially in the corporate world, my liberal arts background has more than once required an explanation (inevitably a defense) of the liberal arts. What can the liberal arts teach us today?
So often my mind races about circumstances I seem to have little control over that it’s nice to be able to fix something so easily. At the end of the day, it’s nice to be able to bow my head and dip my hands in soapy water and rinse away the dirt.
I first had sex when I was eighteen years old. It was very unromantic. We had to be quiet and careful because her parents were rustling around in the downstairs kitchen.