Increasingly, when I think about how to measure a day, a season, a life, I’m committed to different metrics, to abundance instead of scarcity, to care instead of competition, to meaning instead of measuring. If all you value is work, then productivity is the metric. But if you can shift out from under the weight of that, then the world refracts against itself like a kaleidoscope again, again, again. Not what did you make, but what did you heal from? Not how far did you go, but how hard did you fight to be free?
