The dirtiest word in the American language.
Damn you Puritans.
Your work ethic,
short on ethic
long on work,
rythym to thyme,
time to tomorrow.
Todays forever fearful filled with anything but…
A few months ago, one of my dearest friends asked me,
"What would a day without a list look like for you? Have you ever even done that?!?!?"
There was no judgement or condescension in her voice, just true kinship, the kind that CAN say those things and not send you into a tail spin.
Today, while stacking rocks, I was struck that List is the root of Listen.
The word list has always felt incomplete, lacking. This makes sense. The nature of a list is completion, itself, delayed.
To live or die by the list.
How can we ever be asked to List-EN (IN) the moment when chasing the the high that completion brings.
The snake is catching its tale.