In a panic, the inquisitive one grabbed the mangled reporter’s notepad and took off running. The inquisitive one is a very good runner. The inquisitive one has finished 574 ultramarathons. In fact, the inquisitive one finished in second place, in every single one of these 574 ultramarathons. So the inquisitive one is a very fast runner. But the inquisitive one...
For fun, the inquisitive one strapped on a mask and took the Metro into the heart of Washington, DC. The inquisitive one strolled past the White House. The inquisitive one ambled around the Washington Monument. The inquisitive one shimmied along the Reflecting Pool. The inquisitive one labored up the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. Having gazed in reverence at the...
As a person who suffers from anxiety, I understand the feeling of pressure. It hovers in the background of my days and dreams. Sometimes I’m aware of its presence; often I’m not. Often it’s just this invisible thing propelling me forward, or rather, away from the agony of the pressure, which doesn’t necessarily lead to anyplace that can be called...
Oren Jay Sofer, an expert in mindful communication, tells the following story in his book Say What You Mean. It’s a true story about a friend of his who displayed mindful perseverance in connecting with a stranger: “One afternoon in Boston, he met an attractive young woman while waiting at a crosswalk. They had a short but warm connection, and...
I’ve been battling my old anxiety demons continuously since my concussion setback. That was seven weeks ago. The concussion symptoms themselves were sorta kinda back to okay within two weeks, though some of the symptoms persisted a few weeks longer. But the anxiety and panic ballooned and ballooned until they once again started afflicting me with physical symptoms that prevented...
The inquisitive one went to sleep on SUNDAY night, as usual. The inquisitive one woke with the morning light, per usual. The inquisitive one stretched and yawned, as per usual. The inquisitive one located the mobile phone, as per always and usual. The mobile phone’s screen said TUESDAY, which was an event not very per, nor as, usual. The inquisitive...
I present to you the first two sentences of the short story “The Monologue,” by Simone de Beauvoir: “The silly bastards! I drew the curtains they keep the stupid colored lanterns and the fairy lights on the Christmas trees out of the apartment but the noises come in through the walls.” So this, the reader warmly thinks, is a Christmas...
I recently met, through a dating app, a man with an interesting philosophy about text messaging. In his view—if I may presume to attempt to state it correctly here—texting should be purely transactional. The purpose of texts is to set up a time and place to meet in person. To try to convey emotion or wit through a text is...
One of the most frustrating situations in life is that of knowing you are having an illogical emotion, but having it anyway. The tragedy of this situation is perhaps second only to that of watching yourself act in accordance with that illogical emotion. In the wonderful collection of short stories Your Duck Is My Duck, by Deborah Eisenberg, many of...
Frustrated, I scooped up my phone and told it to call the inquisitive one. The inquisitive one answered on the second ring. “Hey, it’s Liza,” I said. “I know,” said the inquisitive one. “Oh,” I said. “I know.” “What’s up?” said the inquisitive one. “I’m in the middle of something.” “Remember when you called me that one day?” “That day...
The inquisitive one traveled to London. It was going to be an exciting adventure! While in a crowded street market, the inquisitive one saw some postcards. “I could send these to my nephew and niece!” thought the inquisitive one, as a bunch of people jostled into the back, shoulders, and butt. When the inquisitive one went to pay for the...
I have gotten almost every job I’ve ever held in the standard way. First, I would submit a cover letter and resume. Next, I would wait to be invited to an interview. After the interview, I would send a thank-you note. Finally, I would wait for a phone call. At various key points in my life, I was fortunate enough...
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Books previewed
Girl, Woman, Other Bernardine Evaristo
Enlightenment by Trial and Error Jay Michaelson
Death in Her Hands Ottessa Moshfegh
The Cooking Gene Michael W. Twitty
The First Bad Man Miranda July
Upheaval Jared Diamond
A Journal of the Plague Year Daniel Defoe
Creatures Crissy Van Meter
Indelicacy Amina Cain
Say What You Mean Oren Jay Sofer
Habits of a Happy Brain Loretta Graziano Breuning
Bad Behavior, This Is Pleasure Mary Gaitskill
The Brother Gardeners Andrea Wulf
Severance Ling Ma
How to Be an Antiracist Ibram X. Kendi
The Museum of Modern Love Heather Rose
Why I Write George Orwell
The Woman Destroyed Simone de Beauvoir
Educated Tara Westover
The Gift Hafiz
The Collected Schizophrenias Esmé Weijun Wang
Your Duck Is My Duck Deborah Eisenberg
Sapiens Yuval Noah Harari
Milkman Anna Burns
Under the Banner of Heaven Jon Krakauer
Waiting for Bojangles Olivier Bourdeaut
A Mind Unraveled Kurt Eichenwald
Eugénie Grandet Honoré de Balzac
The Body Keeps the Score Bessel van der Kolk, M.D.
The Bookshop Penelope Fitzgerald
Digital Minimalism Cal Newport
The Sisters Brothers Patrick deWitt
Dare to Lead Brené Brown
My Year of Rest and Relaxation Ottessa Moshfegh
Almost Everything Anne Lamott
Born to Run Christopher McDougall, Bruce Springsteen
The Ladies’ Paradise Émile Zola
The World Beyond Your Head Matthew B. Crawford
All the Birds, Singing Evie Wyld
Barracoon Zora Neale Hurston
Dandelion Wine Ray Bradbury
JavaScript & jQuery Jon Duckett
Home Fire Kamila Shamsie
The Weather Detective Peter Wohlleben
Play It As It Lays Joan Didion
The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck Mark Manson
Convenience Store Woman Sayaka Murata
Perfect Me Heather Widdows
Sorry to Disrupt the Peace Patty Yumi Cottrell
Why Buddhism Is True Robert Wright
What Is Real? Adam Becker
Kudos Rachel Cusk
The Days of Abandonment Elena Ferrante
F*cked Corinne Fisher & Krystyna Hutchinson
Searching for Stars on an Island in Maine Alan Lightman
Wide Sargasso Sea Jean Rhys
Infinite Jest David Foster Wallace
A Room of One’s Own Virginia Woolf
Enlightenment by Trial and Error Jay Michaelson
Death in Her Hands Ottessa Moshfegh
The Cooking Gene Michael W. Twitty
The First Bad Man Miranda July
Upheaval Jared Diamond
A Journal of the Plague Year Daniel Defoe
Creatures Crissy Van Meter
Indelicacy Amina Cain
Say What You Mean Oren Jay Sofer
Habits of a Happy Brain Loretta Graziano Breuning
Bad Behavior, This Is Pleasure Mary Gaitskill
The Brother Gardeners Andrea Wulf
Severance Ling Ma
How to Be an Antiracist Ibram X. Kendi
The Museum of Modern Love Heather Rose
Why I Write George Orwell
The Woman Destroyed Simone de Beauvoir
Educated Tara Westover
The Gift Hafiz
The Collected Schizophrenias Esmé Weijun Wang
Your Duck Is My Duck Deborah Eisenberg
Sapiens Yuval Noah Harari
Milkman Anna Burns
Under the Banner of Heaven Jon Krakauer
Waiting for Bojangles Olivier Bourdeaut
A Mind Unraveled Kurt Eichenwald
Eugénie Grandet Honoré de Balzac
The Body Keeps the Score Bessel van der Kolk, M.D.
The Bookshop Penelope Fitzgerald
Digital Minimalism Cal Newport
The Sisters Brothers Patrick deWitt
Dare to Lead Brené Brown
My Year of Rest and Relaxation Ottessa Moshfegh
Almost Everything Anne Lamott
Born to Run Christopher McDougall, Bruce Springsteen
The Ladies’ Paradise Émile Zola
The World Beyond Your Head Matthew B. Crawford
All the Birds, Singing Evie Wyld
Barracoon Zora Neale Hurston
Dandelion Wine Ray Bradbury
JavaScript & jQuery Jon Duckett
Home Fire Kamila Shamsie
The Weather Detective Peter Wohlleben
Play It As It Lays Joan Didion
The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck Mark Manson
Convenience Store Woman Sayaka Murata
Perfect Me Heather Widdows
Sorry to Disrupt the Peace Patty Yumi Cottrell
Why Buddhism Is True Robert Wright
What Is Real? Adam Becker
Kudos Rachel Cusk
The Days of Abandonment Elena Ferrante
F*cked Corinne Fisher & Krystyna Hutchinson
Searching for Stars on an Island in Maine Alan Lightman
Wide Sargasso Sea Jean Rhys
Infinite Jest David Foster Wallace
A Room of One’s Own Virginia Woolf
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