The horns did their job and put a smile on my face! I used to be so engaged in political discourse, it was a passion. So was so curious and open. Over the last 12yrs I’ve participated in a slow death march to this point where I watch no news, read no newspapers, podcasts, no more social media. It all fucks with my mental health. Wish I knew how to protect my peace and stay engaged.
Thank you, thank you for offering a potentially stabilizing program during an energetically erratic week. Unlike yourself, I do not listen to, or read, political news any longer. When my husband is tempted to tell me something about the incoming administration I ask him, with this further my life in a positive direction. Is this something I need to have in my consciousness. He always answers no and refrains. I harbor no ill will towards the right, I'm just not interested. I would rather listen to a Dan Harris or Michael Singer podcas. In this vein, Thank you again.
On the video: Bill Bailey is a multitalented genius and in England many consider him to be a National Treasure. I recommend looking for more of his videos in order to get an inspiring boost to one's system.
Happy Friday, great fixation info. I will be listening to the taped gatherings, unfortunately I can’t do any of the lives. 😭 I am nervous about inauguration week. I notice my gut gets tight when I think about it. Been doing a lot of meditation. Gonna be a wild ride. 😬
Good morning! Thank you for this. I'm always looking for trusted people to follow. Your list helps. I feel like together we can get through whatever is coming.
He published a book about birds. Also, another book titled Bill Bailey's Remarkable Guide to Happiness, which I will be ordering. In England, he is often referred to as a National Treasure. Watching more Bill Bailey videos equals a happines boost. Genius musician and good person.
I also like to keep an ear/eye on what Podsave America is presenting. Whip smart and wicked funny (OK maybe a bit snarky but hey, I like that :) And definitely the amazing Heather Cox Richardson.
In a world veiled in darkness, my grandmother found her light in the tactile whispers of point print. At three months old, her eyes may have betrayed her, but her spirit was as sighted as ever. The Bible and books that filled her days were not defined by their heft or the thickness of their pages, but by the life they breathed into her through their raised dots-a language of touch, a precursor of Braille.
Her slate and stylus were her instruments of correspondence, a bridge between her world and that of her blind friends. With each letter she crafted, her thoughts were etched into existence, her words a tangible presence in a world she could only hear and feel.
Her books would rest on her lap, a foundation of knowledge and faith as solid as the earth itself. Her fingers, nimble and sure, would dance across the pages, a ballet of sensation and understanding. The dots beneath her touch would rise to meet her, eager to share their secrets and stories.
I remember the sound of her voice, rich and warm, as she read aloud. It was a melody that resonated with wisdom and resilience, a testimony to her ability to navigate a world that was not built for her. Her dexterity was a marvel, her fingers moving with a grace that belied their age.
Those books, the stylus, the slate-they were more than mere objects. They are the legacy of a woman who refused to be defined by her limitations, and who embraced the world with hands wide open. They are cherished not only for what they are but for what they represent: the indomitable will of my grandmother who saw more clearly with her heart than most do with their eyes.
Roxie, a name that echoed within the walls of our home, was a beacon of resilience and grace. Blindness never dimmed her spirit; it only sharpened her other senses, transforming other daily chores into a display of her remarkable capabilities. Roxie, her domain was the heart of our household kitchen- where she reigned with gentle authority and an unerring touch.
As our dishwasher, Roxie's fingers were like whispers over porcelain, detecting and erasing the slightest imperfection. Plates and utensils gleamed under her meticulous care; each one emerging from her hands as if they were new. It was a dance of fingertips and water, a silent symphony played out on ceramic and metal.
The snapping of green beans was a ritual she performed with a surgeon's precision. Each bean was a conversation between her fingers and the vegetable's hidden strings. She would hold the snapped pieces to her cheek, a gesture as tender as a mother's touch, ensuring not a single string remained to mar the perfection of her task.
Shelling peas was a task she cherished, a moment of peace in the rhythm of the day. The pea pods would yield to her deft fingers, splitting open to reveal their hidden treasures. The bowl would fill, each pea a testament to her skill, and the sound of the shells parting was a familiar refrain in the melody of our family life.
Grandma Roxie, as we fondly called her, was more than just a member of our family. She was a symbol of unwavering strength, a reminder that the human spirit can adapt and thrive. Her legacy is etched not only in the well-worn pages of her point print books but in the very essence of our home. She is unforgettable, a cherished memory that continues to inspire and guide us.
This is proudly my memories of a grand blind lady who greatly influenced my life and character.
Dan have you read or listened to Heather cox richardson, the historian? So good.
Yes, that’s a glaring omission! She’s great.
The horns did their job and put a smile on my face! I used to be so engaged in political discourse, it was a passion. So was so curious and open. Over the last 12yrs I’ve participated in a slow death march to this point where I watch no news, read no newspapers, podcasts, no more social media. It all fucks with my mental health. Wish I knew how to protect my peace and stay engaged.
Do what you’ve got to do. That’s my view. Sounds like you found something that works.
Thank you, thank you for offering a potentially stabilizing program during an energetically erratic week. Unlike yourself, I do not listen to, or read, political news any longer. When my husband is tempted to tell me something about the incoming administration I ask him, with this further my life in a positive direction. Is this something I need to have in my consciousness. He always answers no and refrains. I harbor no ill will towards the right, I'm just not interested. I would rather listen to a Dan Harris or Michael Singer podcas. In this vein, Thank you again.
Thank you for the list, Dan. I'm new to Substack, so it's great to have a bit of a guided tour.
On the video: Bill Bailey is a multitalented genius and in England many consider him to be a National Treasure. I recommend looking for more of his videos in order to get an inspiring boost to one's system.
The horns completely on point. Thanks for sharing.
Happy Friday, great fixation info. I will be listening to the taped gatherings, unfortunately I can’t do any of the lives. 😭 I am nervous about inauguration week. I notice my gut gets tight when I think about it. Been doing a lot of meditation. Gonna be a wild ride. 😬
The Ink by Anand Giridharadas is a must read. I have high hopes for The Contrarian
Looking forward to the lives! Another great political newsletter is Tangle (not on this app) with intelligent analysis from all sides.
Yes, they do a really good job
Good morning! Thank you for this. I'm always looking for trusted people to follow. Your list helps. I feel like together we can get through whatever is coming.
Thank you for this. As I work on the noise in my head, I also need help with the noise that comes into my head from the outside.
Good morning! Loved these Friday fixations. Always something interesting in them❣️ Those horns will be in my head all day 😜
The amazingly talented Bill Bailey who has a lot more to offer than music, check him out.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bill_Bailey
an authority on birds as well, allegedly.
He published a book about birds. Also, another book titled Bill Bailey's Remarkable Guide to Happiness, which I will be ordering. In England, he is often referred to as a National Treasure. Watching more Bill Bailey videos equals a happines boost. Genius musician and good person.
I also like to keep an ear/eye on what Podsave America is presenting. Whip smart and wicked funny (OK maybe a bit snarky but hey, I like that :) And definitely the amazing Heather Cox Richardson.
Dan, we Lions fans are pretty sad at this moment...looking grim at this point in the game (45-28). My consolation: Your Alexander will be so happy!
ROXIE, MY BLIND GRANDMOTHER
In a world veiled in darkness, my grandmother found her light in the tactile whispers of point print. At three months old, her eyes may have betrayed her, but her spirit was as sighted as ever. The Bible and books that filled her days were not defined by their heft or the thickness of their pages, but by the life they breathed into her through their raised dots-a language of touch, a precursor of Braille.
Her slate and stylus were her instruments of correspondence, a bridge between her world and that of her blind friends. With each letter she crafted, her thoughts were etched into existence, her words a tangible presence in a world she could only hear and feel.
Her books would rest on her lap, a foundation of knowledge and faith as solid as the earth itself. Her fingers, nimble and sure, would dance across the pages, a ballet of sensation and understanding. The dots beneath her touch would rise to meet her, eager to share their secrets and stories.
I remember the sound of her voice, rich and warm, as she read aloud. It was a melody that resonated with wisdom and resilience, a testimony to her ability to navigate a world that was not built for her. Her dexterity was a marvel, her fingers moving with a grace that belied their age.
Those books, the stylus, the slate-they were more than mere objects. They are the legacy of a woman who refused to be defined by her limitations, and who embraced the world with hands wide open. They are cherished not only for what they are but for what they represent: the indomitable will of my grandmother who saw more clearly with her heart than most do with their eyes.
Roxie, a name that echoed within the walls of our home, was a beacon of resilience and grace. Blindness never dimmed her spirit; it only sharpened her other senses, transforming other daily chores into a display of her remarkable capabilities. Roxie, her domain was the heart of our household kitchen- where she reigned with gentle authority and an unerring touch.
As our dishwasher, Roxie's fingers were like whispers over porcelain, detecting and erasing the slightest imperfection. Plates and utensils gleamed under her meticulous care; each one emerging from her hands as if they were new. It was a dance of fingertips and water, a silent symphony played out on ceramic and metal.
The snapping of green beans was a ritual she performed with a surgeon's precision. Each bean was a conversation between her fingers and the vegetable's hidden strings. She would hold the snapped pieces to her cheek, a gesture as tender as a mother's touch, ensuring not a single string remained to mar the perfection of her task.
Shelling peas was a task she cherished, a moment of peace in the rhythm of the day. The pea pods would yield to her deft fingers, splitting open to reveal their hidden treasures. The bowl would fill, each pea a testament to her skill, and the sound of the shells parting was a familiar refrain in the melody of our family life.
Grandma Roxie, as we fondly called her, was more than just a member of our family. She was a symbol of unwavering strength, a reminder that the human spirit can adapt and thrive. Her legacy is etched not only in the well-worn pages of her point print books but in the very essence of our home. She is unforgettable, a cherished memory that continues to inspire and guide us.
This is proudly my memories of a grand blind lady who greatly influenced my life and character.
Her grandson:
peppermiller3011@gmail.com