The hardest part…

… seems to be unplugging myself from the stream of the cacophony (which I see in writing has the term phony right there in it). Phony, as in fake, as in not a real connection, as in learning about ebola or the NFL or the reaction to a supreme court ruling does not connect you to people. People right here and now in 3d having conversations with friends, being happy and worried and afraid and here.

The low-hanging fruit is gone. Games deleted from screens. And because of the shape of today no video. The movement is tough, but I am willing to start that tomorrow. I will try to be still and present on the plane. I have some new jazz to listen to. I’m writing it down.

But giving up the little updates, there’s the hardest part.



A day is not done, until it's filled with words.

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