Not writing throws my life off balance. I haven’t totally stopped though. I regularly put five to ten minutes into my morning journal. In the way this blog has been my commentary on the world, the journal is my commentary on my own ramblings through life. I finish it with a quick note about something small I’m grateful for. Today I’m grateful that the grocery store close to me has frozen, wild caught salmon at a decent price. I’ve moved toward eating mostly wild caught fish since reading the Plant Paradox, a truly life changing book. Having a good, cheap source is definitely a win.
I write post cards regularly, at least a couple a month. I live in London, so it seems to make sense, but now I’m not sure why people only send postcards when they travel. Most people don’t even send postcards then, it’s a shame.
I’ve continued to read, which feels similar to writing, but it’s a bummer when I see a clever phrase or well written passage and don’t try to learn from it. I’ve continued to fall for the classics. I’m reading Mark Twain’s The Innocents Abroad. If you haven’t been to Europe, if you’ve been ashamed by other Americans you hear abroad or caught yourself joining in bragging about walking the streets of Paris or Rome while sprinkling a small accent into some pronunciations, this is a must read. It may be the most timeless story I’ve picked up. I wish I’d read it much earlier.
The near future of this blog will be more scattered than before. Fully investing in a single story is time consuming. Far more satisfying than small points and anecdotes, so I’m sure it’s not the end, just not every week. Eventually I’ll write a book, how could that not be the plan?
A story I liked:
There was a man fishing when a stranger approached. He immediately commented on the man’s fishing pole, an out of date relic that must have been decades old. He looked at the fisherman:
“Sir, you look like you’re quite experienced. If you invested in a modern fishing pole, I’m sure you could catch twice as many fish immediately.”
Just at that moment, the fisherman pulled his pole from the water with his second catch of the day.
“That may be true,” he said “but I’m catching enough to feed myself and my family, I’m not sure what I would do with twice as many fish”
“Well,” said the stranger, “you could sell them. There’s a good market for fish if you head to the city. You could probably earn enough to start a serious business.”
The fisherman set up his bait and threw the line back into the water.
“I don’t think a business is what I need. If I make serious money, I wouldn’t know what to spend it on. My family is healthy and full.”
The stranger kept on:
“Just think about it, if you hired employees, and bought equipment, you could supply all the fish restaurants for miles. You’d be rich.”
“Sure,” said the man, “but that all sounds like a lot of work. Stressing over employees and money wouldn’t make me so happy.”
“The work will pay off in time,” the stranger said convincingly. “Before you know it you’ll have enough money where you can retire, kick your feet back, and lay down in comfort.”
The fisherman turned his head and looked at the man. “But I’m lying down right now.”