For most of my adult life, the phrase “morning routine” filled me with a quiet sense of guilt. I had read the books, watched the videos, and bookmarked the elaborate schedules of people who...
I did not start cooking at home to become a better person or to save the planet. I started because I looked at my bank statement one cold January and realized I had spent...
There is a particular kind of exhaustion that does not come from physical labor. It is the fatigue of a mind that has not been allowed to rest, that has been kept perpetually occupied...
For the better part of a decade, I treated my email inbox as the central nervous system of my life. An unread message was a tiny alarm bell, a small open loop demanding to...
I used to measure travel by how much I could cram into it. A long weekend meant three cities. A two-week holiday meant a punishing itinerary of landmarks, photographed in quick succession and barely...
I resisted journaling for years. The whole idea struck me as either self-indulgent or hopelessly precious, the kind of thing recommended by people who also wanted me to manifest my dreams onto a vision...
My relationship with stuff used to be straightforward: when I wanted something, I bought it, and when it broke or bored me, I bought another. I was not a hoarder by any dramatic measure,...
Of all the habits I have adopted over the years, the one that has given me the most while asking the least is also the most unglamorous: walking. Not power walking, not training for...