Today seems like a good day to revisit Aspirations for 2024. Where to expand? There’s writing on values, and writing on megastructures, and then there’s the ocean—so to speak. I want to write to find connection—how does the act, the very process of writing, foster greater connection? It’s I-thou writing, writing to, writing to someone not just myself and the presence of an other. What could that mean? Probably not to write like this, which feels very much self-serving. There’s an emptiness to solitude which also conveys itself through the writing in this state. Well, for not it appears to be all I’ve got. I’m not sure that writing is a ladder out of it as much as tending to the garden of solitude and trying to grow some flowers in the barren beds. Are the beds barren? The soil is teeming with life and potential. Seeds are sprouting beneath the earth. There is life even where it can’t be seen. There is life everywhere.
Well, there’s not much else to do here, it seems.