- The Paradox of Now
- Posts
- š„The Paradox of Now #13
š„The Paradox of Now #13
š°Have you ever seen an akimbo tap?

In for a Shilling in for a Pound
I bet I know more about the various dimensions of box frames than any of you.
Iād bet three shillings on it. Maybe even the nice marble I found in my pocket last week.
Thatās because Iāve been working on a very exciting project connected to this newsletter.
All will be revealed soon.
And by "soon," I mean⦠whenever I can be bothered to actually finish it.
Anyway, the point Iām trying to makeā¦
Wait, am I trying to make a point?
Maybe itās this: If you dedicate an entire Easter bank holiday weekend to something, you basically turn pro at it.
So lean into that itch youāve been ignoring. See where it goes.
Aim small. Look silly. Start anyway.
I do it every week with this newsletter.
If I can, you definitely can.
Cool, now let me give you a taste of what's coming:
š„ An Aussie surviving on nothing but beans
š„ A baked bean... in a hot tub
š„ Iāve ābeanā thinking about shoelaces
š„Eggstra Newsš„
Your weekly dose of some fascinating and fun finds:
š Fountain Pen ā I bought one. Now journaling makes me feel like I am Zac Efron. If you handwrite anything, this will make it weirdly exciting.
š Beau Miles ā The king of quirky YouTube adventures. In this one, he eats only beans for 40 days. Chaos, wisdom, and beans await.
š» Oh What A Time ā A history podcast thatās more pub banter than textbook. Learn about milk bars and Mr. Butlinsā bed-shaped tombstone. Youāll laugh. Youāll learn. Mostly laugh.
The Paradox of Now
Learn AI in 5 minutes a day
This is the easiest way for a busy person wanting to learn AI in as little time as possible:
Sign up for The Rundown AI newsletter
They send you 5-minute email updates on the latest AI news and how to use it
You learn how to become 2x more productive by leveraging AI
To Love in the Aftermath of a Party
I'm still experimenting with a mix of storytelling and a more traditional newsletter style. This week, weāre combining the two.
Let me know what you prefer by leaving a review at the end of todayās newsletter.
A Short Story:
Leave the plates and dishes where they are - thatās a job for tomorrow.
Tonight is for the aftermath. The lovely, quiet kind.
The guests have gone home, but their laughter still lingers in the corners of the room.
It was a good birthday.
Food, games, nothing too fancy. Just right.
Let the mess pile up for now. Letās just be here, together.
We know what's coming - tomorrow will be for clearing up, for wiping down, for emptying glasses that were left and putting our furniture right.
But even that feels like another shared moment to look forward to.
A second act.
The dishes donāt feel like chores. Theyāre just another game we forgot to play last night.
We stack the plates like weāre playing house Jenga.
Slot the glasses into the cupboard like itās house Tetris.
You throw a leftover party ring at me, trying to land it in my mouth.
āHOOPLA!ā you shout.
A new game - one we apparently just invented.
The party rings are a little stale, of course they are. But āstaleā is the last word Iād use for this moment with you.
Thereās no urgency to finish tidying. Iām actively encouraging us to take our time.
We have nowhere to be.
And, more importantly, thereās no one else I want to be with.
Letās put the kettle on. I need something to wash down the eight party rings Iāve inhaled before 9am.
Maybe we do beans on toast?
Something savoury to bring a bit of balance. But letās not nuke them in the microwave - the beans deserve their time in the hot tub, not the tanning salon.
Let them thicken on the stove while we sit, and wait, and just⦠be.
Part of me wants to spill some bean juice on my shirt on purpose. A secret little stain to mark this moment in time.
Nothing special about it, not really.
And maybe thatās why it feels worth remembering.
A stain so faint only weāll know itās there. Our own time capsule.
This is it.
This is everything.
Enjoying the minutiae of everyday living.
And hereās why I wrote thisā¦
People who know me will tell you: I get excited by the smallest things. The other day, I was completely fascinated by an akimbo tap.
That tiny flicker of joy in the ordinary has been one of the biggest shifts in my mindset.
Itās helped me move from being under a dark cloud to becoming someone who can offer light when others need it most.
I donāt claim to know much about love - maybe because love itself is so hard to define.
But Iāve been a best man more than once, and Iāve found myself being the person friends turn to during the hard parts of their relationships.
Iāve often wondered why they come to me. I havenāt been in a romantic relationship for a few years - what do I know?
But maybe thatās the point.
Because even if Iām not currently in a romantic relationship, Iād argue Iām still in love. Deeply in love - with life.
With the quiet privilege of simply getting to exist here and now.
I get to fall in love with the minutiae of everyday living.
I get to love the way my new fountain pen glides across a page.
I get to love the smooth, carved spoon my friend whittled, every time I use it to sprinkle rosemary and garlic salt over my eggs in the morning.
I get to love watching the raindrop I chose race against the others on my windowpane.
I get to love the smell of a new book.
I get to love watching my niece giggle with excitement at the sight of bubbles.
I get to love the little win of guessing the right key for my front door on the first try.
And when those tiny moments are shared with someone else - thatās when relationships feel most alive.
Because youāre not waiting for the crescendo. Youāre dancing to the quiet rhythm of background instruments - the ones most people ignore.
But without them, the orchestra wouldnāt work.
Real life happens on an average Tuesday evening, when your partner walks through the door and you greet them with something that feels like home.
Thatās where most of your life takes place.
So thatās where the love needs to live, too.
Maybe youāre reading this while sitting in a relationship thatās quietly drifting.
Or maybe youāve never thought about how the tiny, unglamorous moments could be the place where love grows.
The good news is - you get to start again.
Today, ask yourself:
Whatās one small thing I can do today to fall in love with the ordinary?
This mindset doesnāt form overnight. Itās a practice. A lifelong one. But once it settles in, it becomes hard to imagine life any other way.
Because we all live far more average lives than we think.
So why not fall in love with the average?
Why not find joy in the minutiae of everyday living?
Because what else do we really have?

Akimbo Tap
š„ Haikuās Haiku š„
Why does Haiku pose for the same photo in the same spot every week?
Because heās vain, obviously. He says the lighting hits just right and brings out his freckles.
NOPE.
Itās actually so we can see how the same place shifts with the seasons.
Like a slow, leafy time-lapse.
Look at that green popping off the page.
You go, girl. Main character energy.
Be centre stage. You deserve it.
Haikuās happy to take a back seat this week.

Haiku #13
Want to play HOOPLA?
A new and fun made-up game,
We need to make rules.
š“ Palm Tree Euphoria š“
I often wonder what happened to the people who used to tie their shoelaces with the double-bow technique in school.
Do they still bend down on one knee and carefully make two loops before tying them together?
Surely not. Surely theyāve evolved.
Or gone extinct.
Actually, now that I think about it... when was the last time you saw someone stop to tie their laces in public? It feels like a lost art.
But if you do spot someone tying a lace - especially a double-bow specialist - please let me know.
And if you can, try and get an action shot.
Message me on socials.
Send an email.
Even a carrier pigeon!
I need to know if theyāre still out there.
P.S. if you liked this weekās worth of gibberish, forward it to a fellow duckling you care about.
Word of beak is how we help improve our small corner of the world.
PLUS⦠Doing so gets you a FREE gift!
See you next week you Dashing Ducks.
What did you think of today's newsletter?Your feedback is greatly appreciated |