Saturday, February 28, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
a letter
rage against the mainstream.
participate in it only as much as is necessary to maintain dignity and respect among those who live it (which I'll warn you is a frighteningly large number of people, by definition).
don't buy things, because you really don't need things, and if you dare to regard 'your things' as merely 'things,' they will start to lose all meaning (kinda like the word things).
if you must buy stuff, do so with confidence that your consumption is not harming anyone else, (has not and will not, too) and purchase pre-loved goods.
before this, though, be creative. reuse jars, rubber bands, fabric, bits of string, and everything else. that's right: everything.
wear what you like and what makes you feel comfortable. don't fall into the traps of brand names and marketing.
value is not made of money.
play equipment-less sports - swim, walk, stretch, practice yoga.
eat things that energize you, and encourage others to do the same. don't feed your guests; nourish them.
invite people over to your home, casualize social situations so that you can blur the lines between norms and normal.
stop talking about community and enact it.
be goofy, accept support, offer your ear when someone else is in need.
seek out the skills and talents of your friends, rather than spending money on impersonal services.
give back in whatever way you can. keep a gratitude journal, plant seeds, volunteer.
acknowledge the greatness of the universe and the miracle of life around you, accepting that you are small within it, but certainly not insignificant.
smile at strangers. exchange expressive glances, because we do not drop out of emotional life the moment we enter public space.
be friendly, because loneliness is rampant (and becoming pandemic) in this plugged in and 'connected' world.
refuse (politely) to accept garbage from others. this includes 'disposables,' blame, paper cups, and self-doubt. let no one rent space in your head.
revel in colour, knowing that its use is powerful, and surround yourself with your favourites.
drink tap water, if you can, because you can, and appreciate that ability.
dance when you feel like dancing. sing when you feel like singing. don't buy into other people's beliefs that there is an appropriate age for doing things. this will make life more fun.
stop killing bugs. stop driving a car. stop flushing your toilet so often.
start a compost pile. start keeping your door open. start living the life you've always imagined, rife with possibilities.
participate in it only as much as is necessary to maintain dignity and respect among those who live it (which I'll warn you is a frighteningly large number of people, by definition).
don't buy things, because you really don't need things, and if you dare to regard 'your things' as merely 'things,' they will start to lose all meaning (kinda like the word things).
if you must buy stuff, do so with confidence that your consumption is not harming anyone else, (has not and will not, too) and purchase pre-loved goods.
before this, though, be creative. reuse jars, rubber bands, fabric, bits of string, and everything else. that's right: everything.
wear what you like and what makes you feel comfortable. don't fall into the traps of brand names and marketing.
value is not made of money.
play equipment-less sports - swim, walk, stretch, practice yoga.
eat things that energize you, and encourage others to do the same. don't feed your guests; nourish them.
invite people over to your home, casualize social situations so that you can blur the lines between norms and normal.
stop talking about community and enact it.
be goofy, accept support, offer your ear when someone else is in need.
seek out the skills and talents of your friends, rather than spending money on impersonal services.
give back in whatever way you can. keep a gratitude journal, plant seeds, volunteer.
acknowledge the greatness of the universe and the miracle of life around you, accepting that you are small within it, but certainly not insignificant.
smile at strangers. exchange expressive glances, because we do not drop out of emotional life the moment we enter public space.
be friendly, because loneliness is rampant (and becoming pandemic) in this plugged in and 'connected' world.
refuse (politely) to accept garbage from others. this includes 'disposables,' blame, paper cups, and self-doubt. let no one rent space in your head.
revel in colour, knowing that its use is powerful, and surround yourself with your favourites.
drink tap water, if you can, because you can, and appreciate that ability.
dance when you feel like dancing. sing when you feel like singing. don't buy into other people's beliefs that there is an appropriate age for doing things. this will make life more fun.
stop killing bugs. stop driving a car. stop flushing your toilet so often.
start a compost pile. start keeping your door open. start living the life you've always imagined, rife with possibilities.
How big are your feet?
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