It’s that spot during the evening when the things I haven’t done, the things still to do crowd into my mind. I notice I’ve written two blogposts in six months. I realise the thoughts I’ve struggled to find purchase for aren’t finding expression. The night feels clear and sharp but also far too big to explore.
Here is a fear:
That much of where we are inadequate – such as the catastrophic misuse of our productive time, the perpetuation of gross inequality, the failure to understand and organise a response to what we are doing to the world, comes from our ability to slot to safely into the easiest and present roles there are available to us, our readiness to let those who want power take it, and the limits of what we can think about at any one time.
Here is a response:
We cannot change this, I don’t think. So perhaps we need to be cleverer about designing and maintaining the topology over which we roll, the cavities and dimples that will catch us and keep us still, the hollows that will lull us to sleep. May all our circles be neither virtuous nor vicious, but stay grounded, in the company of those with whom we share our life.