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the joy of purposelessness

I spent this weekend with my best friend and general life co-conspirator. On a whim, we packed up a laundry basket full of art supplies and a bottle of champagne and headed off to a nearby spiritual retreat center.

We began the weekend by making a mess.

mess making

And then we made some art.

she knew the grammar of least motion

And then we had a two-person dance party to end the night. We laughed. We were ridiculously goofy. We took forever to fall asleep because we couldn’t stop giggling. I came home feeling inspired, energized, and happy. And also committed to doing this sort of thing more often.

As much as I philosophically value play, I realized this weekend that I devote almost no time to purposeless play, to doing things just for the joy of doing them, rather than because they contribute in some measurable way to my goals. So I’ve decided to throw open the door and welcome more pointlessness and silliness and play into my life. More mess-making and two-person dance parties and just general nonsense. More joy.

more joy


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