Alex Armstrong

“Meditation doesn’t work for everyone,” she said. “I can’t sit still for five minutes. If I tried to meditate, I’d lose my mind. I guess I’m just one of those people.” “I know what you mean,” I said. “I’m one of those people who can’t fly a commercial aircraft. I’ll sit in the…

I’ve been traveling quite a bit over the last few months. Here are some idiosyncratic, prejudiced observations: The higher the density of cars, the higher everyone’s stress level seems to be. Not just that of drivers, but that of people in general. This seems applicable both…

There’s a lot of friction to publishing, though not so much to writing. I have honed my writing tools over the years and can grab any of my devices and get started writing — well, typing — in a matter of seconds. But when the text of a blog post is done, there’s a significant…

The less time I have, the more I want to write. I find it suffocating not to write. I remember reading somewhere that when attending conferences you should turn in early and journal. I was in an academic institute during the first half of June. Every night I would come back to…

Some years ago I was ambling down the street of a distant city in search of food, when I remembered something I needed to do when I got back to my hotel room. I pulled my phone from my back pocket and opened my task manager. I tapped out the task and then drew a blank. What…

A friend asked me if I celebrate Thanksgiving yesterday. As a vegetarian, I don’t find this holiday particularly appealing. Also, it’s not at all a thing in Greece, where I live. Knowing that my father is American, she noted that some people celebrate their “home thing”. I…

I write a lot of email. As I’ve written more of it, I’ve gotten better at it. By which I mean I’ve become more considerate of the person receiving the email, trying to keep my emails brief but also thorough. But these are competing goals, and brevity takes too much time. As the…

This blog has been quiet, though my life – including my writing life – has been busier than ever. There are plenty of things I’ve wanted to write but didn’t get round to starting. Or I did start them, but didn’t finish them. Or I finished them, but didn’t like them well enough to…

I drew the shutters of the bar I worked at around one in the morning. Ch— used to work there as well. That’s how we first met. But she had quit in a huff a few weeks earlier and began working at a nearby club. I lived nearby, in a one-room flat without its own bathroom. Since I…

Over the last two weeks, since returning from my fourth meditation retreat, I’ve written three or four blog posts, of which I’ve published precisely zero. The pace is a bit more frenzied than typical, partly owing to meditation. After this last retreat I began sitting twice a…