She writes in a pretty red notebook with red painted nails. Sipping mint tea next to her Mister, lovingly tinkering with her MacBook Air. Her cheeks grow red in the warm sunshine. A few days ago she ran 10 miles, nearly. There was a point when she stopped to walk. A few points, actually. Towards the very end when her body was tired. I don’t know what she was thinking about…
Before I finished reading this chapter, I assumed I knew the meaning of nothing. On the first few pages I found Martha Beck’s words, “…doing just about anything is preferable to doing nothing,” and convinced myself that I was destined for defeat – doomed to a week of 15-minute sections of required silence. This is the problem with assumptions.
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