This morning, I read Mark Manson’s assessment that most news is irrelevant and not actually useful. I’ve long felt this way about most social media posts; that either someone is posting something helpful intentionally, or they are posting something that increases their own status and doesn’t really help anyone but themselves. I never thought of news as having the same quality, but now that I’ve read Mark’s piece… of course it does.

Worry is a choice. And it’s one I choose quite a bit. No one has ever been successful with “don’t worry,” unless the initial worry was small. Life’s anxieties have a way of attaching to the brain like a leech. Words and reassurances aren’t powerful enough to unstick or unseat that which has burrowed itself so deeply. But the “you” that is under all of the thinking is never worried. The observer, the true self, the Buddha mind, whatever you call it… doesn’t care a bit about your upcoming nerve wracking presentation at work.

It’s a game we sometimes play in the classroom. Someone will say “I like basketball,” and if that applies to others, they’ll spring forward into the circle, saying “That’s me!” Or perhaps we see a meme or a photo that we can relate to and we think, “Oh, that’s so me.” I know my interests and my disinterests. I know my favorite movies and TV shows. I know what routes I like to take, physically and metaphysically.

I was in a Barnes and Noble once browsing the history shelves. I was teaching a fourth grade unit on the revolution, something I hadn’t really absorbed much as a child, and I wanted to become somewhat of an expert. Hamilton (the musical) had just come out, which helped aid some of my work with the students. I remember telling them that it would be one of the most important musicals of all time.

+++ title = “01” date = 2020 +++ I was technically born right around the cusp of the start of the millennial. It makes me an old millennial, or someone who only partially grew up with the internet. I still remember a time when I didn’t have the internet, but it wasn’t the internet that changed things for me. I’ve written about finite collections before. In today’s streaming playlist culture, I’ve ordered a stack of cheap CDs for my son to explore one day.