I’m an avid reader of Brain Pickings (check it out if you haven’t heard of it), and one thing caught my attention a few weeks ago. In the mid-1930’s a young writer by the name of Arnold Samuelson caught up with his hero, Ernest Hemingway. Rather then cast him away, Hemingway took him on as a sort of […]
We refer to them as our unlived lives because somewhere we believe that they were open to us; but for some reason and we might spend a great deal of our lived lives trying to find and give the reason they were not possible. And what was not possible all too easily becomes the story of our lives. Indeed, our lived lives might become a protracted mourning for, or an endless tantrum about, the lives we were unable to live. But the exemptions we suffer, whether forced or chosen, make us who we are.
Adam Phillips, Missing Out
To return to a book is to return not just to the text but also to a past self. We are embedded in our libraries. To reread is to remember who we once were, which can be equal parts scary and intoxicating. Other services such as Timehop offer ways to return to past photos or past tweets. They, too, are unexpectedly evocative. Far more so than you might think. They allow us to measure and remeasure ourselves. And if a resurfaced tweet has an emotional resonance of x, than a passage in a book by which you were once moved must resonate at 100x.
Craig Mod, in Aeon
For one human being to love another: that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks the work for which all other work is but preparation.
Ranier Maria Rilke, A letter to a friend