Hey thanks for sharing this! I was surprised that I was able to "get" so much out of the article. I'm not one to play the "Capitalism" card as an opener, so the majority of the article spoke to me...
Exemplary
Hey thanks for sharing this! I was surprised that I was able to "get" so much out of the article. I'm not one to play the "Capitalism" card as an opener, so the majority of the article spoke to me as about "others". Frankly, I had a pretty hearty chuckle when I followed one of the links to another article with the title of "The radical act of cooking". The last section though, where it starts tying core ideas together to wrap up is where it really started hitting home:
Excerpt from the article
I think it’s possible that for many, considering the shape of your life and then living it with vigor is so difficult because it cannot be externally validated. Unlike education and work, it offers no socially obvious meritocratic path. The moments where, like sourdough, it proves, are largely invisible — in cooking, in walking, corresponding with a friend, in chatting with a neighbor or registering to give blood. They cannot be tallied up and put on a resume. They are never “finished.” The progress you make is spiraling rather than linear; circling steadily, slowly, around your weak points, taking two steps forward and one step back, building habits so slowly that only in retrospect can you see your life become different than it was. And there is no one who can tell you that you did it right. But this is not the condition of life under capitalism, this is life itself. And it is a sad irony that though the fear of life may be produced by class imperatives within capitalism, the impulse to restrict it to a problem of capitalism is itself part of the same fearful rejection of the task of living.
I've noticed this behavior within myself a LOT. Even before the pandemic, {personal|relationship}-care tasks were, and still are, things that are easy to brush off and "do later". Brushing teeth in the morning or at night, showering daily, exercising in any capacity, focusing on work instead of daydreaming, responding to texts from friends and family within the day, cooking for myself and my partner, calling my parents, scheduling time to see friends - or friends of my partners, getting my haircut, walking the dog instead of just having them potty... it all feels exhausting when I catch myself thinking that these are things I'll need to do every day for the rest of my life.
Just think about how much more time I would have if I didn't need to do them! It's not like they're improving my life all that much anyway. I can skip doing {x} once or twice, no harm to it...
So then, sometimes, I do. And the self-care lessens. Leaving me slightly deeper in the hole. I can see where it will eventually leave me: so deep down the hole that I won't be able to see where I started from, with all the reason in the world (at that point) to give up. To stop caring, and at that point, I might.
BUT, by virtue of this (admittedly pessimistic) foresight, and by virtue of this article you've lain across my screen, the curtain has been lifted for a time. And I see plainly where I am is not where I'd like to be, certainly not where I could be, but thankfully not the worst place either. So I will take whatever time I have until the "shroud of apathy" returns and get a little more ahead. To keep that ball of light above the hole visible, and hopefully, growing larger.
My wife and I, lifelong procrastinators and fellow burnouts, came up with a saying to help us with this: "You're not going to want to do it more later." We empty the dishwasher first thing in the...
My wife and I, lifelong procrastinators and fellow burnouts, came up with a saying to help us with this: "You're not going to want to do it more later."
We empty the dishwasher first thing in the morning now. Laundry gets washed and dried (tho living out of clean laundry pile a struggle in progress). Called to make long overdue dentist appointments.
It's a start, but a long journey begins with a single step.
It's not what it sounds like in the headline, and is actually an essay about the shortcomings of a certain analytical approach that, the article would argue, too broadly expands the scope of the...
It's not what it sounds like in the headline, and is actually an essay about the shortcomings of a certain analytical approach that, the article would argue, too broadly expands the scope of the maxim: "the personal is political."
This was great. It’s putting what I’ve been feeling lately, as I go further into adulthood, into a more articulate train of thought than I ever could. Cathartic, in a way.
This was great. It’s putting what I’ve been feeling lately, as I go further into adulthood, into a more articulate train of thought than I ever could. Cathartic, in a way.
Hey thanks for sharing this! I was surprised that I was able to "get" so much out of the article. I'm not one to play the "Capitalism" card as an opener, so the majority of the article spoke to me as about "others". Frankly, I had a pretty hearty chuckle when I followed one of the links to another article with the title of "The radical act of cooking". The last section though, where it starts tying core ideas together to wrap up is where it really started hitting home:
Excerpt from the article
I think it’s possible that for many, considering the shape of your life and then living it with vigor is so difficult because it cannot be externally validated. Unlike education and work, it offers no socially obvious meritocratic path. The moments where, like sourdough, it proves, are largely invisible — in cooking, in walking, corresponding with a friend, in chatting with a neighbor or registering to give blood. They cannot be tallied up and put on a resume. They are never “finished.” The progress you make is spiraling rather than linear; circling steadily, slowly, around your weak points, taking two steps forward and one step back, building habits so slowly that only in retrospect can you see your life become different than it was. And there is no one who can tell you that you did it right. But this is not the condition of life under capitalism, this is life itself. And it is a sad irony that though the fear of life may be produced by class imperatives within capitalism, the impulse to restrict it to a problem of capitalism is itself part of the same fearful rejection of the task of living.I've noticed this behavior within myself a LOT. Even before the pandemic, {personal|relationship}-care tasks were, and still are, things that are easy to brush off and "do later". Brushing teeth in the morning or at night, showering daily, exercising in any capacity, focusing on work instead of daydreaming, responding to texts from friends and family within the day, cooking for myself and my partner, calling my parents, scheduling time to see friends - or friends of my partners, getting my haircut, walking the dog instead of just having them potty... it all feels exhausting when I catch myself thinking that these are things I'll need to do every day for the rest of my life.
So then, sometimes, I do. And the self-care lessens. Leaving me slightly deeper in the hole. I can see where it will eventually leave me: so deep down the hole that I won't be able to see where I started from, with all the reason in the world (at that point) to give up. To stop caring, and at that point, I might.
BUT, by virtue of this (admittedly pessimistic) foresight, and by virtue of this article you've lain across my screen, the curtain has been lifted for a time. And I see plainly where I am is not where I'd like to be, certainly not where I could be, but thankfully not the worst place either. So I will take whatever time I have until the "shroud of apathy" returns and get a little more ahead. To keep that ball of light above the hole visible, and hopefully, growing larger.
My wife and I, lifelong procrastinators and fellow burnouts, came up with a saying to help us with this: "You're not going to want to do it more later."
We empty the dishwasher first thing in the morning now. Laundry gets washed and dried (tho living out of clean laundry pile a struggle in progress). Called to make long overdue dentist appointments.
It's a start, but a long journey begins with a single step.
It's not what it sounds like in the headline, and is actually an essay about the shortcomings of a certain analytical approach that, the article would argue, too broadly expands the scope of the maxim: "the personal is political."
This was great. It’s putting what I’ve been feeling lately, as I go further into adulthood, into a more articulate train of thought than I ever could. Cathartic, in a way.