Six Semi-Related Thoughts on Reading, Writing, Thinking, Wisdom vs. Information and Other Random Topics

Sometimes when you’re blocked as a blogger, the key is to simply blog. Maybe not publish, but just write and see what happens. Sometimes I’m convinced blocks happen because you want to write about subjects you perhaps don’t often write about in a particular space. But something — self-judgment, overwhelm, lack of confidence, low energy, life — gets in the way. And when you don’t obey your inner prime directive, well, nothing comes out — everything gets blocked. (It reminds me of a useful metaphor I once read somewhere self-help-ish, about how both positive and negative emotions come out of

Gratitudes + Beatitudes: Odd Things I’m Grateful For

So, I guess Jupiter entered my astrological sign this fall. Astrologically, Jupiter is the planet of expansion, philosophy, higher learning and just that exciting energy of absorbing and growing and learning. And boy did I get all Jupiteresque in my life this fall: I decided to take a novel-writing course, ramp up my riding lessons, join a Monday-night bowling league…and now I decided at the last minute to do Nanowrimo! Where did I get my crazy pills and why did I take them all at once? It’s all tremendously fun, but the Nanowrimo-ing is definitely eating into my blogging time.

A Life Away from the Big and Little Screens

A bit ago my niece got me hooked on making friendship bracelets. She got a little kit, and being an auntie, I got roped into making a bunch with her — and then I couldn’t stop at just one. Though I knit, sew and do a few other handiwork kind of things, I’m not really much of a crafty person. I sometimes enjoy those things, but since film school and full-time work, any of those potential hobbies has fallen by the wayside — almost all my free time outside of family and loved ones is consumed by writing, publishing, blogging

On Clutter, Digital and Otherwise: Part 1

I sometimes wish so hard to be one of those minimalists that have, like, five perfectly chosen books, 25 pieces of beautifully curated clothes and one exquisite piece of jewelry. I have lived with a few minimalists and marveled at their self-possession and self-sufficiency; I’ve envied their elegant asceticism, taking it as a sign of higher consciousness or something. But I am not this kind of a person myself. I attract piles. I fight clutter constantly. I’m not a hoarder, and my approach to matters of adornment, decoration and ownership is simple and straightforward, actually — but simplicity and minimalism