Michael Brooks
@mike
Michael Brooks
The mathematical genius Alexander Grothendieck once had a metaphor for solving problems. He suggested that instead of forcing open an impossibly hard kernel with a hammer and chisel, one should simply let it sit in water and wait. Over time, the shell softens and opens with ease. This is also true in writing; time is the only non-substitutable... See more
Epiphanies Come From Waiting
The more present we are, the more we relax into ourselves, the stronger a magnet we become for what aligns with us. That’s the paradox of the self: it is most potent when we are least focused on it.
Isabel Hazan • distillation
Housing Should Be Affordable Except When I Sell My House for a Million Dollars
Devin Wallacemcsweeneys.netEarth's climate has changed throughout history. Just in the last 800,000 years, there have been eight cycles of ice ages and warmer periods, with the end of the last ice age about 11,700 years ago marking the beginning of the modern climate era — and of human civilization. Most of these climate changes are attributed to very small variations in... See more
How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time.
— Annie Dillard, ’The Writing Life’, 1989
The more attention we pay to the moment, the simpler it becomes. Because you are no longer juggling endless loops of thought at once. You’re exclusively focused on the precious moment you are in. And in doing so: you expand into it. In focusing your attention on one point—precisely where you are—you channel your infinite attention directly into it,
... See moreIsabel Hazan • distillation
Remember The New Yorker . You subscribed because you liked it. Then it taunted you with its endless words, pages and pages demanding to be read. It reminded you of all the time you didn’t have to spend reading The New Yorker . Whenever you glimpsed the growing pile, you felt mild panic. Every time you recycled an unread issue, you felt like a... See more
