When you store your thoughts into a proprietary cloud, it’s like you’re farming somebody else’s land. Every subscription service that manages your schedule is like paying rent on your own life. It’s an illusion of frictionless convenience that actually hides absolute dependency. When the server crashes, or the startup gets acquired, or worse yet, when the algorithm isn’t finding any profit in your date, you’re at someone else’s mercy.

As a result, ordinary competence is actually becoming rare. You can’t build a career or a life on a foundation that track someone else’s quarterly earnings. What’s the antidote? Active resistance, the radical act of taking your data back. The most reliable systems in the world still use plain text. ASCII files don’t need broadband — it will still open and display and edit on a machine built forty years ago. No monthly fees. No “software as a service,” which really just means, “you’re renting our software.”

Plain text is digital resilience. Remove the notifications, the forced updates, and the addictive interfaces, and what remains is exactly the work; nothing more, nothing less. And when you clear all that distraction out of the way, it’s easier to do things right in the first place.

Quit renting and start building. Create a system you actually own, link it to the Web directly with solid network design, and keep your files where you can see them and reach them when you want. The techno-gods crave your dependence. The only way out is to build your own fire.

Then we invented the infinite scroll, and figured that humans could stretch to match it.

We took a brain built to handle six or eight discrete things between sunrise and sleep, and handed it a ten-thousand-line, unsorted backlog. The digital net, the smartphone ping, the endless inbox — they all have a place and a useful job. But they sit at the far end of the table and take notes. They hold the overflow. They don’t get the big chair, the one that dictates the day. That supervisory role is reserved for the human executive function, which is trained to use a piece of paper.

Take away the edges of the page, and the engine tears itself apart trying to hit infinite RPMs. We started demanding a thousand lines of usable code a day and a new book every six weeks. When people choked on the throughput, we didn’t put the physical constraints back in place. We built AI to simulate human output at machine speed. Then we had to ban it everywhere, because stripping out the friction of human thought just leaves you with high-velocity slop.

And that’s the key, isn’t it? When Cal Newport talks about deep work — the kind that produces what he calls “rare and valuable results” — he’s basically talking about intentional, unavoidable friction. Working through hard ideas, coming up with just the right phrasing to “show, don’t tell,” finding the perfect three-note seque to tie a melody together? Those are all things that not only require mental friction, they crave it.

A-ha moments don’t come from scrolling through four-hundred ideas an hour. They come from focusing on individual threads and then taking the costly mental effort to try and weave them into something new and unique.

An iPhone is great for telling us when we need to stop creating and change the wash, and that’s perfectly okay. Emacs with org-mode is a wonderful tool for brainstorming and structuring ideas. But only paper lets us zoom out to the sub-orbital level, where we can see the big things that we need to harmonize.

Humans don’t scale. But paper is already the perfect starting point for the human mind.

Don’t digitize everything. And don’t capture everything, either.

Yes, GTD says “if it’s on your mind, your mind isn’t clear.” Absolutely true. The trouble is that, for some things, your mind shouldn’t be clear. Not at all.

When there’s a giant basket of dirty clothes, the absolute last thing you need to do is write down a to-do item so you can get it off your mind and put it off until Tuesday, when the dirty underwear is walking out of the closet on its own. It doesn’t need to be off your mind: You need to be putting the damn pants in the washer as soon as you get a break.

When the toilet paper’s running out? Get some more, period.

Same with dishes, overflowing trash cans, and random stuff that falls on the floor (probably because it won’t stay in the trash can). None of those things deserve a Round Tuit (look it up).

And GTD has some logic for this, it’s just calibrated a little low for real effectiveness, in my not so humble opinion (IMNSHO). You know the “two-minute rule:” if it takes less than two minutes, just do it now. I’d say that should really be about eight or ten minutes.

How long does it actually take to cinch up the trash bag and stuff another one in there, or just remember that you can wash the can later? If you’re working from home, how far is it to the washer? You can walk to it. In less than two minutes, most likely. Can’t you just carry an armload and start the machine? After all, it’s doing the work for you -- what is wrong with you?

And there’s a second problem here. Things that are in your face, like an overflowing hamper, a leaky trash can, or a smelly sink full of dishes? Writing them down doesn’t actually make the in-your-face-ness go away. Even Rainer König, the absolute master of org-mode, says, “Don’t write down the stuff you can see, you’re wasting time. If the laundry basket is full, just start the wash.”

By the way, whether you use org-mode or not, you want to watch Rainer’s videos. He sounds just like Arnold Schwarzenegger, but it’s a technical conversation. Totally freaky and incredibly interesting. And if you do use org-mode, at all? Why haven’t you Googled him yet? He’s amazing.

My point stands. Don’t capture things you can see. Let the pressure of seeing them drive you to just freaking get them done. Here’s a list of things, again IMNSHO, that you shouldn’t have to write down:

Read more

That was when the bounce started.

New tools came along: Palm Pilot, iPod, flip phone, tablets, better cell phones, and eventually, the iPhone. And then Android and Galaxy followed suit.

In the meantime, lots of prophets of doom jumped into the mix: use paper or perish. Specifically, use my paper forms, which are superior in every way to every other paper form ever created. Glad I had already formed my principle of “distrust all claims of the one true way.”

The real battle lines appeared about 10 months ago, when I retired. Four perfectly good Linux machines covered up my office, but I still wanted a Mac, and an iPhone, and an Apple Watch — the whole ecosystem.

And for the last 10 months, I’ve bounced. Sometimes I felt like I was not being true to my roots: I should only be using Emacs and Unix/Linux. Then I’d be somewhere with just my iPhone and my Watch, and need to make a note or send an email. Then I’d want to write and publish a book, but my org-mode draft wouldn’t convert very well to something that Kindle and Apple Books publishing tools could accept.

Back and forth I’d go. I’m gonna follow the Apple way. I’m gonna follow the UNIX philosophy and its implied way. Meanwhile, a lot of stuff that should have gotten done didn’t get done.

Somehow, yesterday, when I was doing my morning EMOLOGENT (EMOtional LOG ENTry), I realized that I was violating the same principle that kept me from being a planner disciple: distrust all claims for the one true way. I was trying to be a very fickle zealot, and it wasn’t helping me at all.

In that same moment, I remembered that I was starting some collaborations with folks who want to bring some new command-line tools and training systems to the global village. Not really startups, yet, but heading in that direction. So putting command-line tools and Emacs completely out of my life was pretty stupid, but denying myself the ubiquitous convenience of the Apple ecosystem was equally dumb.

That’s the moment I decided to be an anti-evangelist, an advocate for choosing the combination of technology that works for you, and then integrating it in the most useful way. I could join one friend in putting together ninety-second command-line videos that give you the 20% that makes the difference about various UNIX tools. I could join another in creating a tool that validates your command-line interface (CLI) against your API and helps you find the most efficient path to building a better command line interface.

And, I could take my own path on GumRoad, teaching you how to use your Apple toolkit and Emacs and CLI tools together, harmonizing them based on choosing the right tool for every job. And maybe, just maybe, offer some instructions on how to make those pieces fit together a little more seamlessly. Who knows?

So that’s where I am. And I plan to give some free lessons on here, now and again, and probably quite a few lessons that require a paid subscription to get the advanced modes. This knowledge didn’t come easy, and it came over a lifetime. It’s fair for me to ask for a fair price for something rare and valuable.

Stay tuned.

I won’t share them all right now, but I thought I might give you a real-time example of how I use them.  First, here’s my morning journal, which is basically an emotional reaction to waking up. I’ve abbreviated it because, well, boring in spots.

“Still worried about the dollar runway, but there are also some pressing problems that need addressing.  The grass is out of control, and all the big family mowers are either loaned out or need repairs. I feel very strongly about focusing on cutting with my little electric push mower as much as I can, heat or not. Guess I’ll need sunscreen and a long sleeve shirt.

There will be some time between battery charges, but with two sets of batteries, that’s not going to be the limiting factor. My ability to handle the extreme heat safely OS the gating measure.

It’s clear I need to stop trying to make EMacs and UNIX productive: they just aren’t streamlined enough for modern life.

I have unfinished, potentially lucrative projects; I just need to get on them. They don’t fit together under a brand, exactly, though. And I haven’t really asked what all I have that I could use to make money. Hmm.“

Applying my credo

Applying the principles from my credo should help me get more focused results.

For example, with respect to finishing the mowing with my small mower, I need to carefully apply my principle, “Be who you are.” Mentally and emotionally, it will give me some serious feelings of accomplishment if I can cut the whole yard in a couple of days with what I’ve got, but that’s only being true to my emotional state. The physical act of mowing in 90° heat, as a 67-year-old, also needs to be considered. I probably can’t mow every time a battery charges; I need to find a safer strategy.

With respect to getting a larger income pipeline growing, I really need to apply, “Use what you have.” I do have a lot of stuff that I could sell online to get me kick-started, so I really should get an inventory together and at least try. Then I should look at my other skills and materials and see what I can do that might create an income stream in the medium term.

And I need to stop worrying about having an umbrella brand: there really isn’t one. I need to apply, “Distrust all claims for the one true way.”

That’s just a quick snapshot of how I use my credo to make more effective decisions.

At the most personal level, there are probably people in your life who have their own set of expectations: the kind of food you should eat; the way you should arrange the fridge; how you fold the towels. You may even have a marriage where this kind of drama plays out minute-by-minute in your day.

On social media — and lots of other media, too — the algorithmic distortion is nearly inescapable unless you abstain. There may be other reasons for driving people to buy into opinions, but in my view, it comes down to money. Either they want their carefully engineered beliefs to make you buy things, or they want to keep you engaged long enough for subtle ads to stick. Either way, it’s about someone else trying to get your money.

In politics, illogical spin becomes a means of control, but we all know, deep down, that that control is about keeping the politicians rich at the expense of anyone who might get in their way.

Simply put, we are addicted to worshipping money and power, and not trying to really be friends, or spouses, or family, or whatever role may be assigned there. But money and power on their own don’t mean anything. It’s what they imply: personal security, which is really just the absence of fear.

As a society, we’re desperately afraid. Afraid we won’t have enough; afraid we won’t be able to help ourselves; afraid that anything we give to someone else is something we might not have for ourselves.

And there are collateral fears. We’re afraid that if we don’t have the most fashionable clothes, we’ll be sidelined, and thus be unable to get the money or influence we need to sustain ourselves. If we’re not on the currently popular GLP-1 meds, or the popular supplement, or we can’t afford to eat at those overly-expensive, trendy restaurants, people will disown us.

Anyone who disowns you for your economic choices is operating out of fear. They might be afraid that you’ll convince them that simpler ways work, which will lead them down the path of not having as much money or influence, or put them in the company of people who are more self-sufficient. And in the world of escalating desires, being self-sufficient or satisfied with less is clearly an attitude to be avoided.

This giant herd mentality keeps us from really being in touch with ourselves, doing this thing we really like to do, or making a rare and valuable contribution to the world. It’s hard to make revolutionary strides in any field when you’re obsessed with always fitting in; the two paths are often at right angles to one another.

I, for one, don’t buy in. I live in a legacy home, on a small farm, near the beginnings of the southern swamps. I survive on money I’ve put aside over my lifetime, and from the sales of books, essays, craft products, and how-to videos. I don’t have the latest, coolest car, or the very best clothes, or fancy things from town. I don’t want that kind of pressure pushing me away from being the very best at what I can do: writing, mathematics, coding, sewing, and organizing.

Yes, I have to learn to do a lot of things in more simple ways, and I have had to learn to fend for myself in various circumstances. Quite honestly, the five weeks following Katrina here, with no power, no phone, and no available gasoline was one of the calmest and most enjoyable periods of my life. And to me, that level of self-sufficiency means I don’t have to cozy up to your opinions or standards. No offense, I just don’t like being something I’m not.

Call me different, if you want, but for nearly my whole life, I’ve been insensitive to the judgment of others. I seem to want to find my own standards, go my own way, do my own thing.

I highly recommend you do the same thing.

This feels like the right path. It requires no stress or anxiety, and at the end of the day, I feel like it was a good day, and I did something meaningful. Pivoting back to center, rather than trying to win friends, influence people, or chase that “one weird trick.”

So much more gets done in a calm and unhurried state. Yes, things take longer. No, the world isn’t going to crash because of it. There is this natural craving for a steady hand and an uncluttered mind, and it makes a much bigger difference than expected.

Maybe I’m just recognizing the miracle of time, this unlimited stream of minutes (as long as I’m alive). Right now, I’m just trying to stop creating friction that isn’t there. Life is so much better without it.

* I was finding it difficult to stand from a sitting position. Not so difficult that I couldn’t just write it off to old age, but difficult enough that I noticed.

* My fasting morning blood sugar was almost never below 250, if not higher. Not so high that I felt really bad, but I never felt great.

* My kidney eGFR numbers were staying below ninety. Not so bad that the kidney scans showed any damage, but I still thought about it every time I pigged out on junk food.

* I was always looking for something to drink. Not so bad that people said anything, but I definitely had a coke bottle in my hand more often than most other people.

* I couldn’t stay away from the snack table at my wife’s best friend’s house. Not that she wasn’t happy to see me eating, but I always felt uncomfortably stuffed when I left, and sometimes I would even try to cram some more in my pockets, as if she cared.

It’s not like I was addicted to junk food, I just couldn’t stay away from it, and my body and my wallet were paying a heavy price.

Yes, I was rationalizing. A lot. To my own detriment. But then, inexplicably, something changed. One morning I woke up and didn’t actually want a diet soda.

Instead, I got up, made some coffee, and sat down with my laptop. There were other things on my list for the day, and I couldn’t even tell you exactly what I

did, but I just didn’t want to do all the stuff I’d been doing. I can’t tell you exactly what I ate, but I can tell you I started making better choices. In

the store, I started passing over the ice cream and candy, and going a notch healthier. It took me awhile, but soon I was just avoiding junk food almost all the

time.

Then some other things started to happen, too, or maybe they preceded or precipitated this change. I can’t tell you for sure, because it all sort of

happened at once, not by any grand design or frustrated decision.

I stopped reading the news. Cold turkey. Deleted my social media apps from my home screen on my phone. Quit doomscrolling Reels, and TikTok, and Youtube Shorts.

Gave up lurking in Threads and Substack.

And then I started sleeping better. Still sleeping in my clothes, but now covering up and turning out the lights at 9:30 or 10, whenever I got sleepy. Only using

Solitaire or Nethack to fill dead spaces that were too short for anything serious. Started spontaneously reaching out to friends I hadn’t heard from in awhile,

by WhatsApp or Text or DM or other more normal means.

Now I’m back to building up my Website, trying to put real, meaningful content up.

It’s a thing. It’s not a thing I chose, except that all the other choices just didn’t seem so right any more.

Unconstrained thinking slides past the bar comfortably. When we’re jolted awake by reality, clinging desperately to the gentle, warped dream rules, it’s not only hard for us to re-adjust, it’s essential that we don’t try. Creative nonsense isn’t just acceptable and normal, it’s essential. Strict and formal logic isn’t necessary or even welcome. Stay in that wonderful place where vague and irrational beliefs can co-exist peacefully.

If we were creatures of pure logic, our waking life might differ. Harsh, uncompromising standards wouldn’t actually exist at that point. But emotions layered over logic produce some stentorian and crushing task-masters. We try to overcompensate with unrealistic goals. Our daily ration of complicated, lockstep plans and intricate, unlikely wishes never unravel so cleanly as when exposed to clear, mathematical thinking.

Worse yet, these “realistic thoughts” defy sensible analysis with at least the same deviation from the possible as my sleeping imagination, but with infinitely more credibility because we bless it as “well thought out.”

The truth is that daydreams create much less annoyance and frustration because they carry no restrictions. The bar for creative expression is low, if it exists at all. Annoyance and frustration well up from overthinking imagined futures. Accept the wandering thoughts of a mind that doesn’t fancy constraint.

Dreams -- divorced from their impossible physics -- are more accurate, at least emotionally, closer to the truth than the most thoughtful planning. Dreams embrace fuzzy thinking, with an emotional grounding in reality; waking life leaps from conclusion to conclusion, narrowing the insane down to something supposedly believable.

My current state of affairs rarely falls short of my dreams, but struggles in the face of unrepentant goals. Reality didn’t ask for that; I did. And whose fault is that?

Perfection is just as much a fantasy as the fuzzy nature of random fantasies, but a much worse reference point, mainly because we already know it’s an unforgiving, infinite quest. It’s like trying to calculate Pi perfectly, impossible in the face of it, but there are plenty of perfect circles in nature.

The universe has a stable reality that doesn’t match our imagined excellence. No quantum reality could sustain the rampant demands of perfectly straight lines. Immaculate living is a comic book thread; best to leave it there.

Shame on them. Anyone who’s felt encouragement to get up early and tackle the hardest thing on their list can tell you that it all matters. The feelings we have, good and bad, whether we’re spinning about money and resources or celebrating an hour’s hard work, are all valuable and meaningful and right. Don’t let anyone else tell you differently.

Do let your emotional life be an upward curve. There’s a point where you have to move on with techniques, ideas, and technology. Living in the past because of emotions like inertia or nostalgia or coolness or the geek factor?

Holding on to older, less efficient ideas and tools leaves you mired in a pocket of the past that doesn’t really exist any more. Remember the old ways fondly, but embrace the new and more convenient while they’re available to you.

But don’t let the technology cause you to make unrealistic demands of yourself just because it’s easy to set up. A tight daily schedule might look good on paper, but is it really all that productive? Isn’t it better to follow your heart, but put a timer on it, when and where it seem right to do that project or follow that thread?

Instead, give your ideas room to shape up around interesting projects. Your time away from work is your time. Don’t waste it, but don’t wring it out like a wet rag, either. Look at the gains, look at the places where you can contribute rare and valuable results to the world at large. Yes, there will be some friction doing new things, but you can and should always be learning.

I have some collaborations forming around the UNIX command line, one to help build a more user-friendly version of the CLI, and one to create videos that teach CLI mastery.  I have one book that took off for a while (but is now dated); I have a sci-fi novel idea that trends around the story wishes of a major publisher’s acquisitions editor, who’s waiting on my manuscript in 6-9 months; and I have a very good idea for a nonfiction book about improving one’s situation by applying engineering principles, disguised as “rules of thumb,” to get all of life’s sticky administrivia handled by a device, so that individuals can focus on getting better at their core gifts.  And a “secret project” to unite UNIX, iOS, and the Mac interface, so that you can use the best of each in harmony.

It’s a plate full, but the process I’ve been following lately — doing deep work in twenty-five minute journalistic sprints — is working, amazingly well.

There’s a lot to show and tell. Gonna make it happen.

There is exactly one idea I’m dancing around: If you can use engineering principles to manage your external world, offloading administrivia and time-management to trusted systems, you make space to trust your own innate talents and focus them on what really matters.

For me, digital minimalism isn’t about using devices as little as possible. Instead, it’s about using devices to take out the trash, saving your emotional investments for things that make a bigger difference.

Watch this space. I think something huge is coming.

Fri Jul 24 08:03 2026 ~ Epoch 1784898203 ~ Day 205 of 365; 160 remain
Today is Setting Orange, the 59th day of Confusion in the YOLD 3192
Never commit yourself! Let someone else commit you.
Clear +75°F; +79°F; 96%; ↑2mph 1019hPa; 0.00 in; uv: 0
Dawn: 05:43:46 Sunrise: 06:11:45 Zenith: 13:04:23 Sunset: 19:58:22 Dusk: 20:26:45

emologent

Where is the tension sitting in my body right now, and what specific thing is it trying to protect me from?

Mostly in my elbow — I somehow got a bug bite or scrape on it, and it’s getting a little infected, mostly with me leaning on my chair arms, so I put cortisone on it and a small band-aid. Still itches, still hurts when I lean on it. Not sure it’s a psych signal, but it does remind me not to lean on things that I don’t need to lean on. And I’m still leaning on a lot of things. I should take this seriously.

What hard truth, specific fear, or uncomfortable task am I refusing to make eye contact with today?

There isn’t one, aside from the fact that I’m going to be among the remnants of my growing-up family, all of whom treated me with intense disrespect for my entire life so far. Didn’t really want to go to the funeral, but I need to be nice to Joyce, my step-father’s second wife, who has been nice to us insofar as we’ve interacted with her.

Who are what am I quietly blaming, feeling bitter toward, or holding an argument with in my head right now?

Nobody. Things are getting better, although I am really tired of hearing everybody say that, “As a Christian, you’re either in trouble, just getting into trouble, or just getting out of trouble.” That’s a terrible way to look at life, and it focuses you on hating everyone and everything that isn’t church, and even distrusting others who are church members. A recent child sex scandal in a nearby town has shown that the “always having problems, never without sinful behavior” is a wrong attitude. I need to just work away from it.

Underneath the momentum and my daily routines, what raw emotion is actually driving my engine today?

The 25-minute “pomodoro” blocks. I never thought I’d say it, but allocating repeating 25 minute blocks to move projects along is very useful and wildly successful. Apparently it’s the right amount of time.

Regardless of today’s chaos or how I feel about my own output, what is one undeniable, static good in my life right now?

I have a much better handle on my projects and my promises at the moment. And better music.

Since I can remember — which is four or five years old — I’ve always had a slight, persistent pressure at the back of my sinuses and in my throat. My dad was the kind of person you didn’t dispute. Any resistance was met with sharp, angry criticism and sometimes physical abuse, especially when he was drunk, which was pretty much every night. For years, I did doctors, ENT specialists, et al, all to no avail. Still the tight throat, leading to clipped, rapid, unintelligible speech.

I’m finally learning that this issue isn’t biological, but psychological. I’ve always been a shrinking violet, afraid to stick up for myself because I’m afraid of the conflict. As a matter of fact, my whole life and career has been damaged by this early habit. Sad that it took me 67 years to figure this out, but at least I’ve recognized it now.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve had the opportunity to be alone (well, just me and the cat) for an extended period of time, while my wife is helping her best friend ease into widowhood (she lost her husband about six months ago). In that time, I’ve accomplished a lot of things that I would never have attempted with an audience.

We’re in mid-renovation, which really just means painting and fixing little things in the house we bought two years ago. During this solstice, I’ve cleaned junk out of several rooms and moved it all to the spare bedroom. Yes, it’s packed in there, but at least it’s all in one place and not scattered everywhere. I’m slowly moving junk out of spaces where we need calm and order. I’m doing some slight decorating here and there, and I’m keeping the housework strictly caught up.

It’s refreshing, and I feel far more comfortable speaking my mind. I highly recommend it.

The seven-day week and the weekend came into being (I assert) because of Genesis 1.

You may know the creation story: Six days of creation, followed by a day of rest. Later on in the Bible, God commands his people to rest on the seventh day. While the idea didn’t take off right away, it eventually became pervasive in our society, even to the point of generally working five days, getting Saturday off to do your own work, and then (in theory) resting on Sunday.

Yes, I know the arguments that Genesis was written in the sixth century BCE, by a Hebrew priest in Babylonian captivity, who wanted to reclaim the Jewish identity from a brainwashing culture and subvert the dominant god-myths that were being forced on his people. And there are lots of other scholarly takes on the Bible that go all over the place. I’ve heard it said that where there are two Biblical scholars, there are five opinions, and that’s closer to correct than you might imagine.

But if you can take off the tribal glasses for just a minute, you can see the actual effects of the Bible down through history. I think I’m exploring that for the next year or so; sometimes I might even post something of it here, but that’s not the objective.

Think about it.

We cannot choose for others, only for ourselves, but how do we move toward better choices, stronger ethics — toward moral choices that relieve the stress instead of compounding it? Private and perhaps public protesting helps us understand the shape of our indignant feelings, but focusing on what we hate only misdirects our compass and our efforts. There must be some calmer and more centered thoughts available to us, something that we’re overlooking. Thankfully, that path exists, and it is both easier and more fulfilling than a hundred days of weighing indignity.

Just look around you, where you sit now. Are there things out of place, dirty, or waiting to be addressed? Even if you don’t acknowledge it, the implicit incompleteness weighs on our minds. Stacks of unread books, piles of unaddressed correspondence, and even an unmade bed keep your mind attuned to chaos and overwhelm. It would be simple to suggest that we just start clearing these open loops by reading, by answering, by doing the housework. But the stack is endless: Dispatching one just means that two others fall into its place.

Tasks are infinite and repetitive, and our time and focus is badly fractured when we link feelings of success to handling issues. We could observe the pile without judgment, and that will make us feel better, but it fails to solve the very real, implicit problems. And more importantly, where should we start? Some things simply should be done first — but which ones?

We cannot calculate our way out of an infinite queue. While we try to analytically evaluate every open loop in our field of view, more things fall into that field. Is an unmade bed more important than an unread chapter? Is a late reply to a friend more critical than a dripping faucet? The truth is a little simpler: every person’s means and method of choosing the next thing is fundamentally different.

The trick is to stop calculating your priorities and start feeling them.

When you look around your life and your lists, don’t ask what’s most important by the world’s ledger. Instead, let your gaze rest on the pile until you can feel the one thing pulling on you. Attention is both spotlight and magnet. There is always one open loop that carries a slightly heavier emotional gravity than the rest. This friction is your priority. It’s not a logical choice, but it is a somatic reality.

By addressing the thing that feels heavy, rather than the “logical” choice, you shift your world a tiny degree toward sanity. You take a direct, small action to relieve a specific point of internal stress. Pick up the book and put it where you read. Fold the one blanket. Connect with the person you’ve neglected. Write a comment that flags the next coding step, even if you’re not yet sure how to write those lines. Pay the bill. Sketch the shape of the sewing project. Clear the dishes. Or even clean your glasses, so you can see better and make better choices.

When we see the world through the haze of our own unfinished commitments, everything looks worse. As we clear the haze — one particle at a time — we begin to see more clearly where we really want to go. Choose good. Choose improvement, based on what draws your attention. Keep at it with great care, slowly if needed. Do not shy away from following your deep sense of what is right. Choose the laundry or the overdue conversation with your son not by the standards of the world, but by your own standards, your own sense of what is right and wrong and urgent and unimportant in the moment.

Your choices are always intuitive. You can dress them up with formulaic methods, or you can just go with your gut. The most important thing is to move forward, carefully, letting your personal sense of value draw you forward.

But how does one begin? It is not with grand declarations or bold, sweeping changes. That would miss the point entirely. Rather, it is with a gentle attention to the present, a deliberate shift in the way we move through the world. We begin by paying attention to what our mind does—its wanderings, its anxieties, its compulsions. It is a garden untended, overgrown with concerns that may not even be our own. And the first step is simply to watch, to observe how the mind moves, without judgment, without rush.

In this quiet observation, we begin to see patterns. The mind leaps from one thing to another, rarely resting. It is caught in a web of habits, most of which we never consciously chose. But, once we notice this, a door opens. There is space, however small, between the thoughts. And in that space, if we are patient, we can decide how to respond rather than being dragged along by every impulse or fear. This is not about control in the traditional sense, but about clarity. To act, not from reflex, but from intent.

It is a simple beginning, but one of great consequence. For when we reclaim our attention, even in this small way, we are no longer mere passengers on the journey. We become, in a sense, our own guides.

As we grow in this practice of attention, something else becomes clear: much of what occupies our thoughts is unnecessary. The mind is cluttered, filled with concerns that seem urgent but, on closer inspection, do little to serve our deeper well-being. Simplification is not just a matter of decluttering our physical surroundings—it is a way of thinking, of living. As we quiet the noise within, we see more clearly what truly matters. We focus, not on everything, but on the essentials. We pare down, not by force, but by choice.

This process of simplification is not an escape from complexity. It is, in fact, a way of engaging with it more meaningfully. There are things in life that are intricate, yes, but not everything needs our attention at once. What truly requires our effort can be approached in small steps, in manageable pieces. The mind works best when it is focused on one thing at a time, when it is allowed to give itself fully to the task at hand. In this way, the most complex of undertakings becomes simple, not because it is easy, but because we have allowed it to unfold naturally, one step after the other.

It is tempting, in moments of ambition, to think that we must change everything all at once, that the path to mastery or peace requires a sudden, dramatic shift. But this is rarely the case. In truth, most lasting changes come from small, deliberate actions. It is in the repetition of these small actions, over time, that we build strength, that we build the habits of mind that lead to deeper clarity. Just as a mountain is climbed not in great leaps but in steady, measured steps, so too is the mind brought into alignment by daily, patient attention to the way we think.

That “small action” is simply stating a mild preference. As you begin to notice your thoughts, you can very simply address the ones that seem particularly good or bad. For the good ones, just say quietly, to yourself, in your head, “I like having that thought.” As to the others? “I don’t like thinking this way.” It seems trivial and ineffective, but it is, in fact, life-changing.

But in this process, we must also remember something important: life is not meant to be rushed through. It is not a race, nor is it a problem to be solved. It is an experience to be lived, and living well requires presence. To focus on one thing deeply, to give it your full attention, is to experience it fully. And when we do this, something remarkable happens. Time, which so often feels like it is slipping through our fingers, begins to slow. Moments become rich, textured. Even the simplest of tasks takes on a new significance when approached with care, with attention.

This is the quiet art of living well. It does not demand that we abandon the world, but that we engage with it more mindfully. It asks that we slow down, that we look more closely, that we listen more carefully. For in doing so, we discover that much of what we seek—clarity, peace, even strength—was always within reach. It was simply waiting for us to stop, to pay attention, and to begin again with intention.

The mind, like a garden, requires tending. It needs patience, a steady hand, and, above all, consistency. There will be days when it seems unruly, when old habits return, and when focus feels elusive. But these days, too, are part of the process. Each small effort, each moment of renewed attention, builds upon the last. Over time, these moments accumulate, and what was once difficult becomes second nature.

The journey to mastery of the mind begins not with grand gestures but with the simplest of practices: the practice of paying attention. Attention to the present, attention to what truly matters, and attention to the quiet spaces in between. In this way, step by step, thought by thought, we move closer to that elusive state of clarity, of peace, and of freedom.

TL;DR:

I’ve always had mad planning skills. My trouble was actually carrying out those plans, because I continuously re-planned on-the-fly. Somehow, this time, I was much more balanced.

Just this last week? I planned a resupply and housework day for Wednesday. On-the-fly, I planned the shortest route and resisted impulse purchases. Using the same in-the-moment thinking, I cleared a ton of housework and deep-cleaning, sometimes multitasking three or four small projects to save waste motion. This morning I mowed early, ants in my shoes and all, sticking to a pattern that moves steadily away from the house. I got all 250 of the plushies rough-cut, and I have a production line to fine-cut the rest of them. I also found time to blog and have dinner with new friends.

There are surprising side benefits: faster habit formation, better mood, lower blood sugar, dropping pounds, improving balance, and locking in more professional sewing techniques. Not to mention generating baskets of quilt scraps that are perfect for my next project, quilted sling bags.

Not a huge tweak to get here, just better integration of my emotional and physical energy with the list of things I want to do — and maybe a little more patience. I feel like, for the first time, I’m leveraging my natural skill at planning to make it less rigorous, while also making it more effective and productive.

Who the heck am I?

Read on for play-by-play action.

Emologent

Mood: If I could skip the next 24 hours and wake up tomorrow, would I?

Yesterday was a great Resupply Wednesday. It’s also my mid-week housework day, the deep-cleaning things you do once a month or so. I cleaned the very large stovetop thoroughly, mopped, and took the trash to the oak tree where the garbage robot picks it up. Today has already started off very well with an hour of precision mowing, which is about how long a battery lasts on the bagging electric.

Tomorrow I’ll finish up The Fairway. Saturday I’ll probably need to pick up sticks and maybe run back over the Fairway with a clean bag, at a faster self-propelled setting, just to pick up what I can. Then Saturday evening, I’ll probably get borrow my father-in-law’s Bad Boy zero-turn and trim The Rough, but at a higher setting.

My reasoning is pretty simple: When the grass gets higher around the house, there are more flying and crawling pests getting in. We have a really great no-harm pesticide, made from lemon oil, that seems to wipe out the bugs but doesn’t hurt us or the cat — so the bugs aren’t too bad in the house. But if I leave the grass taller a hundred feet or so from the house, the crawly things usually won’t cross the manicured grass.

I have no idea if that reasoning is sound, but it improves my mood to think that it is, and it has seemed to work okay.

I also had a great dinner last night with my wife Sharan and her group of friends. She’s still staying with her best friend. The dinner was at the house of another friend, and it was very enjoyable. I’ll have to do these things more as time goes on. Anyway, all of this accomplishment and activity puts me in a better mood, not to mention that I’m solving my income issues little by little. Onward and upward.

Energy: If I had to start something hard right now, would my first move be toward it or away from it?

My energy has been slowly improving. I made two changes: first, if it’s not rainy or too wet, I mow for about an hour in the morning, walking behind the electric mower. It’s great exercise, and it actually helps my back, my balance, and my aerobic capacity. Second, I’ve started being more conscious of when I’ve been sitting too long, so I’m taking more light housework breaks. Seems paradoxical that expending more energy gives you more energy, until you remember that the human body is adaptive. Not doing any weight training, though; I’m too old to build up muscle mass which may later squeeze my heart. I know someone who had that condition in his eighties, and it was not fun for him to have to keep training every day, just to keep his heart safe.

Mental WX: If my head were weather, would I want to be outside in it?

It’s really clear up in here. I’ve noticed lately that almost as soon as I notice an issue (like not paying enough attention), and then call myself out on it, the next time the situation comes up, a habit is already forming. This is not what I expected at 67 years old, but it’s clearly happening. I like it.

Actual WX: Is the weather working with me or against me today?

It’s just a hot day today. At some points yesterday, I thought there would be rain upcoming today, because I had those sinus signals. When I looked at the weather radar, the clouds were all around and moving in funky directions. I think I can now say that it really is atmospheric pressure patterns that cause my sinuses to act up — and cause my Ménière’s to kick in. We know it’s Ménière’s because when I do feel an attack coming on, Meclizine stops it cold. Weird how the confirmation for a diagnosis is that the treatment worked. Ask Dr. House.

Loop: If I stopped trying to think about anything, what would I end up thinking about?

The way I’m moving back toward the church. I had a Bible cover I was going to sell the other day, but I felt it needed a Bible to go in it, otherwise the price would be insane. As I described the Bible on the sale site, listing its many features, I decided that I wanted to keep this Bible. Dropped the sale. Also, I’m feeling personal motivation to finish the plushy crosses I’ve been working on for the Christmas shoeboxes we’re sending overseas. We don’t have to load and ship them until November, so I could sew just a couple a day, but something is making me want to press on and get them done. I’m just going with it.

Lingering: What conversation am I still having in my head that nobody else is in?

In the process of getting the crosses done, I’m leaving a ton of great quilt pieces, baskets and baskets. I’ve got my wife trying to find a quilt pattern that works for these. The only thing I might have to buy is some plain, white, medium-weight cotton material for the resting color. Every good quilt block needs a resting patch (for the eye to rest), a neutral patch (to separate the blocks), and a color patch. I’m looking for square blocks, formed from either triangular or square shapes, that incorporate these three elements. I’m going to use those to build sling bags, ultimately with unique, engineered, ergonomic pockets that secure your phone, wallet, etc., on the back of the purse, so you don’t have to open it to get to the on-the-go essentials. This whole thing goes on in my head a lot, especially trying to find ways to use square and rectangular shapes to avoid having to recut what are already perfectly cut pieces.

Unfinished: What task makes me look away when I remember it?

Probably the repainting in the corner of the bathroom. I had to do a sheetrock repair about a year ago due to a bad caulking job by the shower installers. Got some paint over it, but it seems to be the wrong shade. Going out to the laundry room and pulling out all those paint cans, trying to find the exact right gray color? Not a fan. Quilting lesson, though: keep your neutral colors identical throughout, it’s easier than equivocating very similar shades.

Gravity: What one thing, if resolved, would make everything else feel lighter?

Sharan’s retirement money is apparently on the way. That will give her some spending money, and maybe she can pay for her own COBRA for a while, which will give me a lot more breathing room to ramp up my side-hustle. Just knowing that money’s here will make everything else feel much lighter.

Anchor: If today went completely sideways, what would still make it worth having been awake?

Already I’ve cleared a big section of the fairway and mowed along the sidewalks and outdoor patio with the lowest setting. I’ll still need to weedeat and maybe edge some, but if everything else went sideways today, I still did something. Admiral McRaven would be proud.

Mokusatsu: What am I pretending to still be considering?

I’m not sure. I have too many books on my bookshelf that sometimes want to pull me off course, but I’m not ready to declare any of them persona non grata.

Idea Pressure: Is there something I need to write down before I can think about anything else?

Not today, that I know of; I probably need to walk through my OmniFocus projects at some point and maybe work some of them into the mix, but for now, I think I’m okay.

Creative Content: Did I make something today that didn’t exist yesterday?

Yes, a clean yard on the back of the house, where most of the critters creep in.

Gains: What moved this week that was stuck last week?

The plushies have moved a really long way; I’m getting them done way ahead of schedule so far.

Pivot: What am I doing out of momentum rather than intention?

Nothing, really. In fact, I’m starting to use my momentum wisely, setting reasonable limits on-the-fly for various tasks. It’s nice to not have to work to some sort of over-optimistic, mechanical algorithm any more.

Signal Boost: What did I figure out recently that someone else needs to know?

Still humming on how much you can learn if you can get yourself into a learning mode. As you get in the habit of learning new things frequently, you begin to pay attention to more things you can learn, and then subsequently learn those things. It’s like a major mode in your brain.

Rare Value: What did I do today that only I could have done?

Mowed my yard with a push mower. Nobody else in my family would even consider it because “it’s too slow.”

Friction: What task makes me reach for the phone instead?

Evenings. Also makes me reach for food. That sucks. Gotta change this pattern.

What wants to stay? If I could keep one thing from yesterday forever, what would it be?

The way I handled errands and housework. I resisted lots of opportunities to spend money. In the end, I felt better about myself.

What needs to go? If I could delete one recurring thing from my life with no consequences, what would it be?

I would delete the way I eat. I binge at night, horrible, huge quantities of junk food. I really, really, really need to stop. The exercise helps a lot with morning readings, but I really, really need to stop snacking.

Ephemeris

^{Wed Jul 15 12:54 2026 ~~ Epoch 1784138042 ~~ Day 196 of 365; 169 remain
Today is Sweetmorn, the 50th day of Confusion in the YOLD 3192 (Celebrate Confuflux)
Your fly might be open (but don’t check it just now).}

Did you know?

^{The ten highest mountain summits in the United States are all located in Alaska.}

Daily Journal

Yesterday, I crashed at five PM.

Back at it this morning, buoyed up by the monthly SSA allotment. Makes it a resupply day: groceries, medicines, sewing supplies, gasoline. And things for the cat.

I remember the success culture of the nineties. Motivational posters, tape and CD gurus, books with unbelievable promises. Oh, and who could forget, “The Secret” — that was quite a ride.

I admit, I fell for some of it, and so did my giant bellwether company. They actually bought us tapes from one of the mega-gurus of the era. I found absolutely nothing useful in any of those 30 tapes.

I hope I now believe that there is no secret shortcut to success. I really don’t think there are that many actual shortcuts: lotteries, inheritance, lawsuits, that sort of thing. Seems to me they’re all low-probability events. I feel like “name it to claim it” actually hurts, because it keeps me in subsistence mode, waiting for the prize to drop.

I don’t like where I currently am, but I’m certainly not looking for shortcuts. Instead, I’m cutting myself off short, I guess you could say. Made a budget, and now I’m forcing myself to live within it. And I am aggressively pursuing any possible way I can create rare value and exchange it for extra income.

Feels like the short version is: “Pressure works; dreaming hurts.”

But that’s just how I feel at the moment.

TL;DR: When I accelerate out of bed, the balloon stays in the air, and mountains seem smaller. Yesterday, I watched smart sewing habits invent themselves in real time. My “Budget Crucible” is working, but doomscrolling in the evenings isn’t.

Ephemeris for Latitude: 30° 37’ N, Longitude: 89° 24’ W

Partly cloudy +74°F; +78°F; 97%; →7mph 1019hPa; 0.00 in; uv: 0
Dawn: 05:37:28 Sunrise: 06:05:57 Zenith: 13:03:09 Sunset: 20:02:48 Dusk: 20:31:40
Celestial Location: At 11:55 PM CDT from my backyard, the summer sky is dominated by the Sagittarius/Scorpius arm and the Summer Triangle. The following three highly distinct stars provide ideal geometry for an intersecting 3-point visual position fix:

• Antares (Alpha Scorpii) : SHA 112” 21’ DEC 26”29’ S ALA 22” AZ 230”

• Vega (Alpha Lyrae): SHA 96”03’ DEC 38”48’ N ALA 74” AZ 285”

• Altair (Alpha Aquilae): SHA 62”01’ DEC 08”48” N ALA 57” AZ 162”

  ---

Emologent

Mood: If I could skip the next 24 hours and wake up tomorrow, would I?
Nope; real progress. Cut out 50 plushies yesterday, ready to sew. More binging today.

Energy: If I had to start something hard today, would I run toward it or away from it?
All in — if it’s inside. Rain & mud outside. Powering thru the first hour sets the tone.

Mental WX: If my head were weather, would I want to be outside in it?
Either my emotions are tracking my thinking or shutting up. Either way, I’ll take it.

Actual WX: Is the weather working with me or against me today?
The weather supports staying inside and not pleasure-driving.

Loop: If I stopped trying to think about anything, what would I end up thinking about?
Fine-slicing this month’s SSA allotment: Seven-hour funeral trip this month.

Lingering: What conversation am I still having in my head that nobody else is in?
The conversation about the spontaneous skill developing. I’m building habits fast by sewing these crosses. It’s incredible how much my hands are learning. I’ve always struggle with turning a seam under the needle, but yesterday, I just started turning the seam a little beyond the alignment point, before starting the machine again, to let the piece fall flat again. I did several other things which seemed intuitive to me, but hadn’t been previously. I don’t have a cool name for this effect, but I like it — and I need to get with it on other projects just to get good at doing these things.

Unfinished: What task makes me look away when I remember it?
This particular day, nothing, I guess.

Gravity: What one thing, if resolved, would make everything else feel lighter?
Mmore income » self-supporting budget. Challenging to do the right things.

Anchor: If today went completely sideways, what would still make it worth having been awake?
Just jumping up and running on high octane from moment one.

Mokusatsu: What am I pretending to still be considering?
The coffee-themed sling bag; the designs just aren’t working.

Idea Pressure: Is there something I need to write down before I can think about anything else?
Remembering that creditors these days do not honor their stated grace periods with any grace at all. I am using some built-in grace periods (some even built in by law) to keep my budget afloat. All but one of the creditors is calling or emailing me daily with “when you gonna pay” calls. I tell them, “within the grace period, don’t worry about it,” but the next day, someone else whose English is impossible for me to completely understand calls back with the same attitude that feels like, “you are very behind on your bills, and we’re going to take action if you don’t pay today.” I need to realize that those same creditors are probably operating with very thin margins, and using the grace period actually makes them less profitable. Good. They probably deserve it.

Creative Content: Did I make something yesterday that didn’t exist the day before?
Yes, 50 more plushies, cut out and ready to sew.

Gains: What moved this week that was stuck last week?
Everything; hitting on all cylinders now. The “Budget Crucible” is working.

Pivot: What am I doing out of momentum rather than intention?
Nothing. There are actually things I should find the momentum to do.

Signal Boost: What did I figure out recently that someone else needs to know?
”Keep your habits and your habits will keep you” really is a thing.

Rare Value: What did I do yesterday that only I could have done?
Do all things I’ve done in the last 24 hours, in 24 hours.

Friction: What task makes me reach for the phone instead?
Chilling at night. I still spend way too much time doomscrolling.

What wants to stay? If I could keep one thing from yesterday forever, what would it be?
The dogged determination to finish a project, no matter how hard the middle may be.

What needs to go? If I could delete one recurring thing from my life, what would it be?
Inertia. Can’t ever let it get me down again.

Daily Journal

Usually, this part of the post is updated at the end of the day, so stop back by this evening.

06:30 - I’m a tornado this morning: housework, cat care, hygiene. laundry. Let’s go!

09:18 - Interrupted my journaling to switch the clothes to the dryer, than back at it.