Perhaps all anxiety might derive from a fixation on moments - an inability to accept life as ongoing.

My existence shrank from an arrow of light pointing into the future forever to a speck of light that was the present moment. I got better at living in that point of light, making the world into that point. I paid close attention to it. I loved it very much.

This is suffering's lesson: pay attention. The important part might come in a form you do not recognize.

The catalog of emotion that disappears when someone dies, and the degree to which we rely on a few people to record something of what life was to them, is almost too much to bear.

Time punishes us by taking everything, but it also saves us - by taking everything

The only thing I've consistently been interested in in the last twenty-five years is writing very short texts. That continues to interest me as a project, to contain some part of reality, which is chaotic by definition, in a contained space. I like small apartments. I like getting rid of stuff. I went through my files yesterday and spent hours shredding things. It was great.

I see no reason not to write whatever comes to me.