Category Ordinary Life

Macbeth and the ordinary

I was in Luxembourg all last week for a business trip that turned out to be pretty fun.  This was the annual EU-wide summit, where we get together to celebrate the past year and look ahead to the coming year.  We stayed in a surreal thermal springs resort that straddled the border between Luxembourg and […]

A windfall weekend

What do you do when your get-away weekend in Italy falls through and you want to stop feeling sad that your opera ticket’s going to waste? Think of the weekend as a surprise weekend in London, not a lost weekend in Italy. I was tempted to treat it like a “normal” weekend, feeling harried to […]

A thought on how I want to live

If you’re looking for a non-scriptural book full of wisdom and spiritual insight, I’d suggest the poetry of the 14th Century Persian poet Hafiz.  Amanda gave me this collection translated by Daniel Ladinsky for Christmas and I’ve been savoring it ever since.  This poem, for example, is one I need to sit with longer and […]

Bun cha, kingfishers, and puppets who become real

Today I decided to explore the East London neighborhoods of Hackney and Shoreditch.  I work in Shoreditch, so I’m there every day, but I’ve never really taken the time to take a closer look outside of work.  The exterior is gritty, not pretty, but it’s arguably the hippest part of town and, on closer look, […]

Thief in the night

My iPhone was stolen tonight. I had just alighted from the bus and paused on the sidewalk to finish reading an email, when around the building (on the sidewalk, far from the street) zoomed two guys on a motorcycle who snatched the phone from my hand and sped off. Bystanders expressed a moment’s sympathy and […]

First snow!

I woke up early this morning planning to spend the day at my desk toiling at a big project for work that is making life, well less happy and balanced than I would like. But I saw something odd on my alarm (which shows the weather) — could it be?! Yes, it was! So I […]


Let’s say you were chopped to the ground, uprooted, flown across the Atlantic, and buried in foreign soil.  How long would it take before you dusted yourself off and pressed on with your life?  As you think about your answer, please consider that it has taken my shamrock less than a week (see the story). […]