What do you need to own? Really? Given the needs of others, the inevitable clutter of your own psychic space, and the distinction between things that are beautiful and things that are not?
What do you the morning after you have an overwhelmingly powerful dream in which you are instructed to float more though your life?
When was the last time you felt ashamed? And what does that chronology tell you about your routine? Especially given you’ve nothing to be ashamed of?
If you were going to write a letter to your child about the pangs of being seventeen (or twenty-one or thirty five) what would you write?
What would you say to Amy Coney Barrett if you met her at a dinner party?
I find any mechanism for productivity and structure, even and especially those that would help me the most, impossible to adopt. This cannot be to my benefit.
What would it take to dial down the pain each of us feels, dial up the balm each of us needs, since we are human and because we are alive now, in mid May 2022?