I think the thing that makes me feel lazy is my tendency to focus on all I didn’t get done in a day, rather than what I did get done in a day. So of course, there’s a reason to feel guilty over taking a break instead of wanting to DO something, which just paralyzes me instead of motivates me.
Words matter, and definitions matter. We cannot fix something we cannot call by its proper name. By shrinking away from the word racism, as a collection of engrained behaviors and actions that are much more subtle than the KKK, we cannot name things what they are.
It takes entitlement to think, “You’re dumb,” is a valid argument.
Discipline is not synonymous with will power. Rather, discipline is a combination of passion and logistics.
What does it mean to feel fulfilled? It’s more than just filling up the time.
Knowing my guilt is relational—that is, that it happens in the context of people and relationships and the judgment I perceive them having of me—has been a blessing and a curse (as are most adulthood, therapy-induced revelations).
Detaching the wedding from the marriage was a key turning point for me.
What defines success? Is it an image of it projected to the outside world, or an internal sense of fulfillment?
We all have choices to make in life. But before we can make a choice, we need to have options from which to choose.
We go around asking each other about our careers all the time. It’s the ultimate small talk question: “What do you do?” Our culture emphasizes these roles as part of our capitalist machine: career implies a place in society, a person whose role in production and output fits into a tidy little noun. I’d much rather know what you’re passionate about, what you look forward to doing, what you’d do for free.