Why the agony of the anti and the gone? I’ll make a drama of myself in two parts.
There's a game (conversation starter?) called Big Talk. Questions like, what are you thankful for in this moment? And, what can you do right now that couldn't do a year ago and, what advice would you give to a newborn? (Learn all the languages you can)
Questions to ask yourself, questions to ask the handful of people who you really want to know, who you really want to know you.
What a gift for there to be a match between the people you really want to get to know and the people who really want to get to know you.
I love questions. I organize so much of my work around them. I orient so much of my life around how I can answer them. Who are the people you know you can travel with? Where would you like to go with those people, when travel is not just possible but easeful?
I don't always have the answers but I do love asking questions. As I get older, I also want to make it easier to answer the most interesting questions. Time, space, money, energy, not always in that order (rarely in that order). Time to think, space to experiment, the money to keep going, the energy to want to.
Who are the people whose mere presence energizes and inspires you? Who are the people who, well, don't?
I used to think knowing yourself was something you could only do alone, but now I think it's situational. It's not that who you are changes, it's that how you understand yourself does.
Attribution
Why can’t I argue in favor of gone? Go by and pass away—if you can’t stay for a moment— without hesitation—blaming me for a crime—if you can’t stop victimization —if you can’t say something without struggling against the gone of another antagonistic element. Why the agony of the anti and the gone? I’ll make a drama of myself in two parts.
—from Antigone by Giannina Brashci