Not by the scar on my chinny-chin-chin

Ironically, after filling the last post but one with news of all my jet-setting and go-getting and a prescient desire to slow things down, I had an accident, which seems to be a warning against doing too much and living too fast.

I have some interesting scars on my chin now that the scabs have fallen off – it looks like someone has scribbled on me with a thick-tipped marker, the colour of red clay.

The most alarming thing about the whole episode is my apparent blindness and deafness to the signs displayed by my body. I tell myself that I’m a firm believer in mind over matter, but at times I’m not so sure. Still, it’s good to feel vulnerable sometimes. 

The fall has also cemented a suspicion that I’ve had for a little while: that one can’t simply go on absorbing – there has to be a moment of emptiness, the squeeze of expulsion. As a twitter newbie, I feel this acutely – there’s so much stuff to take in – how do you separate the wheat from the chaff? How do you filter the stuff, so that you’re selecting the best sources and the most relevant information? There’s anther post in this tweet-bewilderment, but for the meantime, you’ll have to do with the article I wrote for TWP.


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