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Years ago I was told by a yoga teacher “Cultivate your practice,” and I’ve come to believe that cultivating is the best way to go about living one’s life. At the end of Candide, Voltaire concurs, “Il faut cultiver notre jardin.” So I am cultivating my life: sowing the seeds I want to reap, tending to the fruits, learning from my mistakes, hoping to grow stronger and brighter over the seasons.
The other day Christine had a friend from work over for dinner. After the bruschetta, we continued with the wine until two bottles were gone. We ended up sort of sappy, but the point is that Dan mentioned a phrase from a movie that resonated so strongly I knew I had heard it and decided it was true long ago:
It’s the sense of touch. … We’re always behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something.
So in our world where we only touch to fuck or to fight, I am crashing.
