Moving to the country has been incredibly good for my work, for my sense of perspective.

Logic and faith don't occupy the same side.

Our minds have a tendency to wander. To duck and feint and keep us at a slight remove from the moment at hand.

When I was growing up, I had no idea that I could possibly become a writer. I wrote endlessly in journals - a practice I maintained for a long time, well into the writing life I had no idea I could ever have.

I've always felt like my nose is pressed to glass. I always feel a little bit like an outsider.

It is in the thousands of days of trying, failing, sitting, thinking, resisting, dreaming, raveling, unraveling that we are at our most engaged, alert, and alive.

I don't want to lean back into the past, or forward into the future. I don't want to wish the present moment away. The truth is in the present moment. The great paradox is that when I'm really able to do that, time slows down and opens up. Time feels suddenly and inexplicably without end.