February 28, 2011

More good 3six5 posts

I have passed along a few good posts from the3six5.posterous before, and below are teasers of a couple good ones posted on back-to-back days. The blog invites a new author each day, so at the end of each year you have seen the world through 365 different viewpoints. I was actually selected as an author, and I am scheduled to post there this Saturday.

By Josh Boston:
At this very moment there are 247 snow flakes hanging from my ceiling. I’m moving away from sunny Southern California to the mountains of Colorado and I figured making it snow in San Diego would be a good going away present...
I love these snowflakes because they’re the physical representation of being present, being alive, of thinking of something & then actually doing it.
Which I kinda suck at. I'm terribly inconsistent.
They represent the opposite of “Oh, that’s a neat idea,” and instead say “Whoa, I really did that."
I want more of the latter in my life. ‘Cause in life, I call timeout way too often.
I’m guilty of talking a lot, but then not doing much of anything. Of pretending there is plenty of time for the promise of tomorrow. Often I’m waiting for things in life. Waiting for a break, for a spouse, for when I get a mortgage, for when everything finally arrives. But there is no waiting because life doesn't slow down...
The rest of the post

By Sam Ismail
Life is always simpler when you let go of who you think you should be. You hear it and you roll your eyes. But when you live it, you’re awash with a sense of freedom that you can’t quite quantify or express. Not in a tweet, a Facebook status update, Foursquare checkin or an angst-filled lyric you wished you’d written. It just is.
I weave in and out of airports, cities and traffic these days, walking past and through people and buildings I know well. The irony that fate wraps in everyday is not lost on me as I see the person I was and pity him, even though it’s actually me I’m so disdainful of. To borrow a famous thought, I let go of everything and only kept what came back to me. That is now what is precious.
I wish I had known that the thought that "you just might not be enough" is an illusion. Like the monsters under our beds and in our closets that terrified us when we were young. In the end, the monster in the closet, when the light’s turned on, is just a jacket on a hanger and the fear is gone.
The rest of the post

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