Writer's Diary
7/15/26
Saturday, a day trip to a nearly century-old Christian commune in the Hudson Valley, where I was invited to speak as part of a conference on what essentially was the philosophy of Doomers. And the day itself was one of the most beautiful I’ve experienced in a long time. In the commune, there were children everywhere playing, running around. Very few phones to be seen. Was extremely kind and open-hearted. You simply don’t experience that in New York City.
Sunday, I played football. For the first time in a few weeks, it felt great. I have to laugh at the fact that I still enjoy doing the things that I enjoyed doing when I was sixteen, playing sports or playing poker, being in the sun in the summer. I’ve reached a point in the cycle of New York City life where I realize how much simple things are preferable to the complicated, how much the humble is preferable to the glamorous and the chic.
Art always has to chase after something greater, something bigger than itself. There comes a point in the cycle of creation where the self seems like the least important thing. What matters is the spirit, the underlying musicality of being that percolates.
More than ever I see how much life is about steadiness and humility. It’s about creating order and beauty. And resisting the impulse to create disorder in order to have an excuse for why things didn’t work out. If I can look back on my life and say, as I can now, that I have a great deal of love and trust around me, I can’t really complain about the small things.