Teasing out a structure for this day called Wednesday. Out of bed at 05:45am, directly to shower. Dry, dressed, out the door. Coffee will come from Dunkin’, Central Square, and keep my hands warm while I ride the T to Broadway.

Broadway Station

Thirty minutes of pure social, until 7:30, when the work day begins. By 8am, I’m in the groove, reading, making notes, smiling inside and out… This is gonna work, heh.

Resolution strategy

“Don’t overreact to a lapse” is one of Doug Teitelbaum’s core insights to maintaining willpower. I’m all over it. The rest of this morning I’ll work up a “Precommit” for structuring Wednesdays.

As always, we’ll see…

Teasing out a structure for this day called Sunday. Walked to Starbucks, Central Square, for a coffee and the Sunday edition of the New York Times. Scanned Sports, Business, and Review until the coffee was gone, then back to the apartment for further reading, and more coffee. Outside from the kitchen window, the red-topped Harvard clock tower, iconic, marks the moment, ties it into Sundays past and future. I am learning.

So I read, and the narrative begets wonder, ergodic links to “What if…

Reconstituting hope

Willpower, end-to-end.

Be it resolved, Honduras

Where there’s willpower reinforced, there’s a way.

… we’ll see.”

"Your solution is elegant though ultimately incorrect."

Facebook is an inadequate analogy for “global community of strategic thinkers,” and should only be used lightly, if at all.

3:40am @myKitchen

They won’t go away.
They can’t go away, they’re part of the parade.

H is for homeless, a state of mind;
and also for unhoused, no roof to sleep under.
Hospital begins with H, too.

I is for illness, invisible;
not ill, but illness.
You see a green light, then go; but he can’t read the signal.
In his state of mind, that signal, inside the illness, is invisible.

J is for jail.
Jail, homes, and hospitals. Compare and contrast.

K is for knot. But you can’t hear it, this k is silent.
If knot be silent and invisible, he is background, lost in noise.

L is for liminal,
and a life of cute girls, who
go away on buses to
destinations, ergodically so,
where the flow of generosity conceives home.

Watching the morning go-to-work parade.
Cars, trucks, buses and bikes.
Could be a circus, though not quite a midway.
But it is a midway, through.

A is for away.
B is for bus.
C is for cute girl, getting on the bus
that takes her away
to the circus,
or maybe a midway.

D is for destination, that place
where everyone seems to be going,
or not.
Paul didn’t make it to Spain, but
things turned out okay, I think.

E is for ergodic, as well as
erotic. It’s how we choose, mostly — a way with words.
Away, now!

F is for flow.
Cars, trucks, buses and bikes,
cute girls and everybody else.
Red light, green light, and that big orange mitt,
blinking,
with a number next to it,
translated, means to the cute girl and everybody else, “You have 34 seconds to get to the other side!”
(At the same time, the message implies that cars, trucks, buses and bikes will soon get their turn.)
Everyone gets a turn,
a right of way.

G is for generosity:
The parade at Central Square, free lessons on life, real-time, generous in proportion.