More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
I had a theory that we gravitate toward the stories we need in life. Whatever we’re longing for—adventure, excitement, emotion, connection—we turn to stories that help us find it. Whatever questions we’re struggling with—sometimes questions so deep, we don’t even really know we’re asking them—we look for answers in stories.
Bearing witness to the suffering of others? I don’t know if there’s anything kinder than that. And kindness is a form of emotional courage. And I’m not sure if this is common knowledge, but emotional courage is its own reward.
“Believing in things that aren’t real? Making something out of nothing? Connecting dots that don’t need or want to be connected? That’s what all the best writers do.”
“Whatever story you tell yourself about your life, that’s the one that’ll be true.”
“Here’s another thing I accidentally figured out: happiness is always better with a little bit of sadness.”
If you wait for other people to light you up, then I guess you’re at the mercy of darkness.
“Choose a good, imperfect person who leaves the cap off the toothpaste, and puts the toilet paper roll on upside down, and loads the dishwasher like a ferret on steroids—and then appreciate the hell out of that person. Train yourself to see their best, most delightful, most charming qualities. Focus on everything they’re getting right. Be grateful—all the time—and laugh the rest off.”
“There it is. The whole trick to life. Be aggressively, loudly, unapologetically grateful.”
That’s just life. Tragedy really is a given. There are endless human stories, but they all end the same way. So it can’t be where you’re going that matters. It has to be how you get there. That’s what I’ve decided. It’s all about the details you notice. And the joys you savor. And the hope you refuse to give up on. It’s all about writing the very best story of your life. Not just how you live it—but how you choose to tell it.
