Mourning Mornings

My good friend Cobb has a spectacular reflection on mornings, routines and the commonalities we share with strangers yet seldom experience firsthand. She also quotes me, which is reason enough for me to delight in the post, even though it has many other fetching qualities. Here’s an excerpt:

Pulley’s post was about something that happened inside her as she pushed herself to do things she wasn’t necessarily excited to do and how those acts became joyous and enlightening. I latched onto her personal ritual in hopes for finding my way more easily toward the things I’m not keen on, or towards habits I didn’t know I had to break.

…All that being said, I think I began with loving the mystery of people’s private lives. There are programs in the world that touch on these unknown intimacies very well. This American Life does a great job of showing individual mysteries one episode at a time, and the book I’ve recently begun, Gilead, seems to be all about the large-feeling you get inside a family. Even if that family is as small as you, your girlfriend, and the morning routine.

Read the whole thing at Subterranean Fire.

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