My One Listicle of the Year

1. Let us stipulate that the “listicle” is the lowest form of human writing. 
2. In my defense, when E.M. Forster burned onto my brain the command “Only connect!”, he didn’t add “but never in the form of a listicle.” 
3. (In Forster’s defense, there was no actual brain burning involved. Back in 1910, Forster was just minding his own business, writing a good novel, and 77 years later, I happened to read it. That’s on me.)
4. Here’s the thing: I did one too many mediations this week. The last one just wrapped, and I am spent. I’m wholly unable to assess or edit the draft post I wrote late last night, so I’m going to hang onto it. 
5. Instead, as we wait with cautious hope for news of a breakthrough in the Middle East, I’m finding it fortifying to learn about Venezuela’s Nobel winner María Corina Machado. 
6. As I recharge, I’m also doing this thing where I watch videos from people whose worldviews have changed radically over time. (Hey we’re not all knitters, and it’s deeply soothing.) Here’s another one. 
7. Finally—speaking of soothing—above is a photo I took a couple years ago. I do not know this particular neighbor, but I enjoy imagining the conversations we might have about our shared love of The Container Store.

Until next week, when I imagine that whole paragraphs (with connective tissue!) will once again become available to me,
Kate