written by Jorge Luis Borges, from Blindness
Joy by Zadie Smith
Thanksgiving in Mongolia by Ariel Levy
Seeing the Speed of Sound by Rachel Kolb
What Lies Beneath by William Langewiesche
Forty Thoughts on a Fourth Daughter by Mark Oppenheimer
The Old Man at Burning Man by Wells Tower
Wildcatting by Susan Elizabeth Shephard
The Ghost Writes Back by Amy Boesky
The Devil’s Bait By Leslie Jamison
Company Man by David Sedaris
A fantastic selection of essays for the next time you’re in that nonfiction mood.
Keeping track of time, doing this kind of personal accounting, gives things context; it marks the passing of time not unlike the demarcation school enforced, where time was punctuated by semesters and summer breaks. When you mark time in chunks, you can name it — “it’s fall,” “I’m in my 40s,” we’re in the “aughts.” Shared vocabulary has value because then there can be conversation. Being aware of time allows for both an objectivity and a shared experience that weren’t there before.
What you actively spend time on, and (far more difficult) what you choose not to do, who you choose not to spend time with, and who and what you decide to say no to — what you choose, then — is how you mark time. And that is all there is.
A beautiful reflection on time by Liz Danzico. Pair with this fascinating look at how humanity has visualized the chunking of time over the ages.
Annie Dillard captured this yin-yang of time best: “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”
written by Franz Kafka, Diaries (via kafkaesque-world)