Weekly things
Life without goals, flinking, and autumnal days
Dear reader,
If you enjoy my writing and essays, this bonus newsletter might also be your thing. It’s filled with hand-picked things to read, ponder and do—alongside my personal notes from the day (a reader-fave!)
To receive this dose of inspiration in your inbox every week, simply become a paid subscriber of On Things
Things from the day
Monday 2 September
A friend tells me her challenge for the week is to not have her phone in the bedroom and to find other ways to self-regulate that don’t involve scrolling. “I want to get off the phone, and be in my own life,” she says.
Tuesday 3 September
Maybe you don’t need to figure out how to make something of your life.
Maybe you just need to do something with your day.
Wednesday 4 September
Overheard: “Life gets so busy. The least you can do is take time off when it comes to you in moments.”
Thursday 5 September
I hadn’t realised until a friend pointed it out that there are times to dissemble and times to rebuild our lives.
Friday 6 September
Overheard: “There’s a careful balance between wanting something, but not needing it.”
Saturday 7 September
In the throes of finishing her thesis, my housemate
says to me, “I feel like I’m flinking.” “Flinking?” “Yes. Neither floating nor sinking. Flinking.”When you’re caught in the messy-middle. Flinking. When you’ve ended one thing, but not yet begun the next. Flinking. When you know what you want, but not sure how to get it. Flinking.
Sunday 8 September
I find summer days can taunt us with their relentless sunshine, endless hours, humidity and heat. I’m ready for the autumnal days to envelope us in cosiness, for the permission rain gives us to stay inside, and for the tiny clouds of steam above my mug to replace the clink of ice cubes.
Read all the things
→ Peruse the full archive of my things from the day
Some things to read
“… to acknowledge that one’s accomplishments, great or small, hardly matter to most people and may one day fade into the dust, rendering one mid or even forgotten—might that actually be liberating rather than depressing?” — Viet Thanh Nguyen on learning there’s more to life than being a writer
How dare you — a compilation by
Life without goals — from
How to have a career — essay from Sarah Manguso
“There are years that are for listening and reading and not producing that much.” —
on making a living in
“There are some things I can do. / There are some things I can’t take back.”
— from ‘To unravel a torment you must begin somewhere’ by Luisa A. Igloria
Something to ponder
Lost
by David Wagoner
Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
You’re always so great. I saved that poem, thank you.
oh that poem! ❤️❤️❤️