Before my mid-thirties meltdown I was fairly successful, according to society’s standards of success. I was a Chartered Accountant and had been working in public practice for almost ten years and even though the wages started low (first year accountants often earn less than retail workers, just FYI), I’d earned my stripes and was finally doing reasonably well financially. Continue reading “What if the Universe has your Back?”
I guess you could say it was the most significant relationship in my life. Fathers have their place, but mothers are the ones who make us, forming our bodies within their own. Once we are separate physically from their womb, we women continue to be made by our mothers to some extent, as we mold ourselves either in the same shape as our mother, or purposely into another. Continue reading “The Most Significant Relationship”
“We were never really born, we will never really die. It has nothing to do with the imaginary idea of a personal self, other selves, many selves everywhere: Self is only an idea, a mortal idea. That which passes into everything is one thing. It’s a dream already ended,” wrote Jack Kerouac in a letter to his first wife, found in The Portable Jack Kerouac. Continue reading “Self-Love: It’s a Rort.”
1. We can hold an instant in time in our hands with a photograph, and we can hold hours of time in our hands with a DVD. How weird is that?
2. The planets are moving further apart from each other at an increasing rate as space expands. If it’s just the continuation of the big bang, why is it speeding up not slowing down? Scientists don’t know and I think that’s COOL.
3. Because of space we carve objects into separate identities and give things their own names and attributes. Yet we ignore space most of the time when without it, there would be nothing to name. Poor ol’ space. Continue reading “7 Thoughts for the Day”
I cringe when I look back on any writing I’ve done where I talk about being fairly content in life. Not because it’s a lie. I cringe because it paints only a partial truth – I am MOSTLY happy. You must not forget the MOSTLY. It was a long road to get to MOSTLY from RARELY. Why am I yelling?
Continue reading “The Fat Stinkin’ Elephant in the Room”
David Foster Wallace, American novelist and short story writer, is a person I was unfamiliar with until I recently heard his Kenyon College commencement address, which took place in 2005. After hearing it, I’m completely besotted. In the words of Emery Allen, “I think I fall in love a little bit with anyone who shows me their soul.” Continue reading “This is Water: David Foster Wallace on the ‘Self-Centredness’ of Life”
I don’t know what to do with my hands as I stand at the door and wait to meet my idol: writer, legend, Phillip Herns. I switch between holding them in front of me and placing them in my pockets. I’ve never noticed my hands this much before, they’ve never seemed this cumbersome. Continue reading “Never Meet Your Idol”
I don’t know what I’m going to blog about this week.
Sometimes, the only way to figure out what to write is to start writing. This is the stuff writers’ workshops are made of – “free writing”, they call it. It’s where you unleash all your hidden thoughts onto paper, often surprising yourself with what comes out, writing about topics that you hadn’t even noticed were lying dormant, deep in your subconscious.
I don’t have much to report for the Christmas break, except that my house now has a lot less clutter. Of course, I did the normal Christmas stuff too – visiting family and such – but the highlight of my holiday break was sorting out my Tupperware cupboard. I may need a hobby.
One of my favourite things about Einstein is how I believe he saw God: the one all-encompassing force that governed the universe, which can best be explained through the language of science and mathematics. What could be more beautiful than the science and mathematics of everything? And what is God if not beauty? Through unifying the forces of the universe Einstein could see perhaps not God himself, but certainly experience God’s handiwork.