It reminds me of writing and how I wake up week after week and get stuck on the blank page again and again. How I always despair that I have no more good ideas and, even if I did, not enough eloquence to convey said ideas. But I love it still. I love how writing brings everything to the surface, how it generates and absorbs my attention. How it

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I’ve found myself wanting to get out of the liminal place I’ve been floating in — wanting it to be done already, wanting to arrive in clarity, wanting to feel more certain or sure about what I’m supposed to be doing and how I should be doing it. Part of me feels like this pressure to “get there” comes from the false belief that there is anywhere... See more

We’re made so uneasy by the experience of allowing reality to unfold at its own speed that when we’re faced with a problem, it feels better to race toward a resolution—any resolution, really, so long as we can tell ourselves we’re “dealing with” the situation, thereby maintaining the feeling of being in control. So we snap at our partners, rather... See more