This year has been a constant state of withdrawal. We have withdrawn from all the things that we usually do. We have withdrawn from friends. … That’s because there’s been no inflow. Life always requires effort, always takes a chunk out of you, but in ordinary times, it also returns on the investment. You venture forth. You see things, talk to people, have experiences, hear stories, discover someone, eat something delicious, wander into a new place. Each one of these things gives you something — new information to process and sort through, mull over, share with your friends. The balance, one hopes, is heavily tilted toward the new data being added rather than the bleed out of attention and energy.
There are two kinds of quantities in the world. Stock is a static value: money in the bank or trees in the forest. Flow is a rate of change: fifteen dollars an hour or three thousand toothpicks a day. Easy. Too easy.
While I’m grateful for the stock this past year (family, our home, lots and lots of cooking) I’ve been desperately missing the flow: being out, seeing friends, meeting people, going to shows, getting on planes, visiting places. I’m ready to refill on some new data.