They heighten my senses every day, let alone every week.
2 Poetry Corner
from Journal: April 19 : The Southern Tier
All our farewells al-
ready prepared inside us . aaaall our
deaths we carry inside us, double-yolked, the
fragile toughness of the shell . it makes
sustenance possible, makes love possible
as the red buds break against the sunglight
possible green, as legs move against legs
possible softnesses . The soft-boiled
egg is ready now .
Now we eat.
Paul Blackburn (1971)
3 The Mock Turtle's curriculum
Austin Kleon highlighted this on his blog - worth repeating here.
4 Monty Don feeds the chickens
I watched this with the sound on mute and it was a magical experience.
5 Unsolicited advice in 68 bits
Overtime: This week's sign off comes from Seth Godin
Waiting and worrying
It’s easy for us to choose to worry. The world is upside down, the slog continues, a tragedy unevenly but widely distributed.
Worry takes a lot of effort. And worry, unlike focus, learning or action, accomplishes nothing of value.
And, at the same time, due to the time-horizon of the pandemic, it’s also tempting for us to simply wait. To wait for things to get back to normal. But all the time we’re spending waiting (for a normal that is unlikely to be just like it was) is time we’re not spending learning, leading and connecting.
Waiting is, sort of by definition, a waste of time. But time is scarce, so wasting it is a shameful act.
If we decided to simply reduce our waiting and worrying allocation by 50%, just imagine how much we could discover, how many skills we could learn, how dramatically attitudes could shift.
We can still wait (even though time will pass either way). And we can still worry (even though it doesn’t do any good). But perhaps we can figure out how to do it less.
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