time the friend

Sir Time he has a daring plan,

to inaugurate Sir Fear in man.

Though Time thinks Fear is on his side,

Their purposes will soon collide.

Sir Fear it seems is rather cold,

He seeks revenge on Time I’m told.

Now, Time and Fear they war inside,

From both of them I try to hide.

But, remember Time he’s not so bad,

it’s only his temper that drives him mad.

So make a friend with Time you see,

and Fear the foe will finally flee.

What (or more so, Why) is this blog?

I find it easy to fall into a desire to know much at the expense of contemplating little. The world tells me to do more, read more, write more, talk more, take more jobs, earn more followers, attend more events; I suppose this is my way of rejecting the more-mentality and embracing the given.

Simple sentences. Neat, economical and generative. “The boy ran home.” It communicates clearly, yet generates a vast imaginative space. What kind of home? Why did he run? What kind of shoes did he wear? Did he even wear shoes? Why do I run? Is he also afraid of something or in love with something?

Like compulsive hoarders, we jam our space floor-to-ceiling with news, stories, information. I do not suggest that learning is bad, but sometimes it is unruly and even addicting. I’ve taken to this correspondence with you as a way of meditating on mundane, background moments—contemplating rather than consuming and enjoying the generative space that these moments create. I hope this space can be generative to you too.