How to Get Every Email Returned

Or at least how to try.

By Trish Hall(hôl)

We’re all writers now. We fling(fliNG) words out into the universe through text(tekst), email, Facebook and more. Even people who hate(hāt) writing have to do it, because you need to text your husband(ˈhəzbənd) back, write your boss a condolence(kənˈdōləns) note and do better on Tinder(ˈtindər) than “hey.”

On average, American adults are texting about 30 times a day, twice(twīs) what they did back in 2011. Not so long ago, these people would have made a phone call; now no one does that except telemarketers(ˈteləˌmärkədiNG) who wake you in the middle of the night. On Facebook, more than half a million comments are posted every minute.

So many words. And too often, they are neither convincing(kənˈvinsiNG) nor entertaining(ˌen(t)ərˈtāniNG). There are ways, however, to write persuasively(pərˈswāsivlē, pərˈswāzivlē) in your everyday life. To break through the clutter(ˈklədər), to get attention and even to bring people over to your side.

In the course of doing research for a book on how people actually change their minds, and what gets them to say “yes” rather than “no,” I was distressed(dəˈstrest) to find that I knew much less about it than I thought I did. I figured that my nearly five years as the New York Times Op-Ed editor gave me a pretty(ˈpridē) strong vantage(ˈvan(t)ij) point on what worked and what didn’t. It did — but I didn’t always know why. What I sensed(sens) intuitively(inˈt(y)o͞oədivlē) about effective(əˈfektiv) writing turned out to rest on some deep psychological(ˌsīkəˈläjəkəl) truths. Understanding them provides(prəˈvīd) tactics(ˈtaktik) that can be exploited(ikˈsploit) in both personal and written(ˈritn) interactions(ˌin(t)ərˈakSH(ə)n).

Some of these rules can be used both in writing and in real life. Until we’ve banished(ˈbaniSH) written communication entirely, we’re going to have to keep doing it — so you might as well get your text messages returned.

Tell the Truth
Be Quick About It
Just Ask
Know Your Audience. That Means Listening.

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/05/25/opinion/sunday/writing-advice.html

Simplify(ˈsimpləˌfī) Your Day to Have a Greater Impact(ˈimˌpakt)

By Leo Babauta

Our society(səˈsīətē) is obsessed(əbˈses) with productivity and optimizing(ˈäptəˌmīz) our lives — having the perfect(ˈpərfikt) routine(ro͞oˈtēn), perfect diet(ˈdī-it), perfect productivity system, perfect todo app, and more.

It’s an ideal(īˈdē(ə)l) that not only doesn’t exist(igˈzist), it’s harmful to our health and happiness. And what’s more, it’s completely misguided(ˌmisˈɡīdəd) — what many of us really want to do with our work is to do meaningful work and have an impact on the world.

So how can we let go of the focus on productivity and optimizing, while still doing meaningful work and having an impact?

Simplify. Focus on the important, meaningful tasks instead of churning(CHərn). And actually dive(dīv) into those meaningful tasks instead of procrastinating because of the uncertainty(ˌənˈsərtn(t)ē) that comes with them.

Look at your task list and email/messages inbox and pick the most meaningful tasks — there’s a good chance you’ve been putting them off. Instead, when you don’t go to your favorite distractions(dəˈstrakSH(ə)n), you are likely to churn through smaller tasks, answering messages, checking on inboxes and updates.

This is because meaningful, important tasks come with great uncertainty. We habitually(həˈbiCH(o͞o)əlē) respond to this uncertainty by avoiding it, going to distraction and easier tasks that make us feel less uncertain.

But the result is that we’re churning through a lot of busywork, spending our days doing a lot but not getting a lot accomplished.

Instead, we can simplify:

Pick meaningful tasks, and focus on those.
Create space by clearing away distractions.
Letting the busywork get pushed until later in the day, when we set aside room.
And putting our entire(enˈtīr) being into the meaningful, important tasks.

Imagine clearing out space in your day by simplifying, letting go of the small tasks, not constantly answering messages and emails, and instead giving yourself the generous(ˈjenərəs) gift of focusing.

You’d get the meaningful tasks done, and feel like your work is more meaningful. Those tasks would make a greater impact, and over time, you’d have a great impact on the world.

All because you simplified and focused.

https://zenhabits.net/impact/

Why Workers Without College(ˈkälij) Degrees(dəˈɡrē) Are Fleeing(flē) Big Cities

By Eduardo(edəwərdō) Porter(ˈpôrdər) and Guilbert Gates(gāt)

Last month the Census(ˈsensəs) Bureau(ˈbyo͝orō) confirmed(kənˈfərmd) a confounding(kənˈfound) dynamic(dīˈnamik) taking hold across the American landscape(ˈlan(d)ˌskāp): Superstar cities, the nation’s economic(ˌekəˈnämik,ˌēkə-) powerhouses, hotbeds(ˈhätˌbed) of opportunity at the cutting(ˈkədiNG) edge(ej) of technological(ˌteknəˈläjək(ə)l) progress, are losing people to other parts of the country.

For the first time in at least(lēst) a decade, 4,868 more people left King County(ˈkoun(t)ē), Wash. — Amazon’s home — than arrived(əˈrīv) from elsewhere in the country.

Santa(ˈsan(t)ə) Clara County, Calif.(-nēə,ˌkaləˈfôrnyə), home to most of Silicon(ˈsilikən, ˈsiləˌkän) Valley(ˈvalē), lost(läst,lôst) 24,645 people to domestic(dəˈmestik) migration(mīˈgrāSHən), its ninth consecutive(kənˈsekyədiv) annual(ˈanyo͞oəl) loss(läs,lôs).

The trend(trend) is becoming widespread(ˈwīdˈspred). Eight of the 10 largest(lärj) metropolitan(ˌmetrəˈpälətn) areas(ˈe(ə)rēə) in the country, including those around New York, San Francisco(ˌsan frənˈsiskō), Los Angeles(-ˌlēz,läs,lôs ˈanjələs) and Miami(mīˈamē), lost people to other places in 2018. That was up from seven in 2016, five in 2013 and four in 2010. Migration out of the New York area has gotten so intense(inˈtens) that its total population shrank(SHraNGk) in 2018 for the second year in a row.

As the chart(CHärt) above shows, 30 of the 44 largest counties, with populations above one million, recorded more domestic outflows than inflows of people in 2018.

This growing flow of people out of the hotbeds of innovation(ˌinəˈvāSHən) and economic(ˌekəˈnämik,ˌēkə-) activity underscores how lopsided(ˈläpˌsīdəd, ˌläpˈsīdəd) the distribution(ˌdistrəˈbyo͞oSH(ə)n) of opportunity has become.

Places like Cupertino(ˌko͞opərˈtēnō) and Mountain(ˈmountn) View in Santa Clara County may still offer the best, most highly paid opportunities for the highly educated(ˈejəˌkādəd) — lawyers and programmers seeking jobs at Apple or Google. The median(ˈmēdēən) family in that county makes $122,700 a year. In King County it is $105,512, way above the national median of $76,000.

The problem is that workers without a four-year college degree don’t earn anywhere near that much.

https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/05/21/business/economy/migration-big-cities.html

The Grand Pursuit(pərˈso͞ot)

By Derek Sivers

Great phrase(frāz) from this interview with rags(rag)-to-riches investor(inˈvestər) George(jôrj) Soros:

CNN: “Have your billions made you happy?”

Soros: “I’m reasonably(ˈrēz(ə)nəblē) happy, but the money’s not the point. It’s an indication(ˌindəˈkāSH(ə)n) that I’ve succeeded(səkˈsēd) in the grand adventure(adˈven(t)SHər, ədˈven(t)SHər) of understanding reality.”

I love the way he puts that.

For him it’s investing. For others it’s songwriting. For me it’s creating businesses(ˈbiznəs) that help musicians.

It all feels like a grand pursuit to understand the world, doesn’t it?

Songwriting feels like a grand pursuit of expressing(ikˈspres) the sounds and thoughts in your head within music’s restrictions(rəˈstrikSH(ə)n). Understanding the secret combination(ˌkämbəˈnāSHən) that makes the difference between an average song and an unforgettable(ˌənfərˈgetəbəl) classic(ˈklasik).
Programming feels like a grand pursuit of using a limited language to make the clearest(ˈklir), foolproof(ˈfo͞olˌpro͞of), flexible(ˈfleksəbəl), and efficient(əˈfiSHənt) execution(ˌeksəˈkyo͞oSH(ə)n) of a task.
Entrepreneurship(ˌäntrəprəˈnərˌSHip) (“businessing”?) feels like a grand pursuit of helping other people achieve their goals.

What’s your grand pursuit?

https://sivers.org/grand-pursuit

students, and teaching, living(ˈliviNG)

life as unscripted(ˌənˈskriptid) movie(ˈmo͞ovē)

every person’s life is an unscripted movie,
with the star challenged to find action and word
to get through each scene(sēn)
before the next scene challenges anew(əˈn(y)o͞o),

as a teacher I am gifted
with a front row seat(sēt) for some of the scenes,
I clearly see the actor
and revel(ˈrevəl) in the quality of self revealed(rəˈvēl)
in intent(inˈtent), in word, in action,
I can applaud with my own word and care
the quality before me,

then the movie shifts location,
to be filmed(film) away from me,
I often know little of how it turns out,
maybe an occasional(əˈkāZHənl) review by someone who has seen later scenes,
sometimes the actor flashing back to a visit,
and my appreciation(əˌprēSHēˈāSHən) of the quality of the self living its story
reprises(rəˈprēz) for a bit(bit),

today I visited for a time with a former student
who will not be denied(dəˈnī) in her quest(kwest)
to create a career(kəˈri(ə)r) with the songs her soul writes
and her voice and hands release(rəˈlēs) to the world,
the meaning and music of her words
ethereal(əˈTHirēəl) and grounded at the same time,

By Henry H. Walker

https://henryspoetry.blogspot.com/2019/04/p.html

I Tweeted(twēt) Out My Phone Number—And Rediscovered(ˌrēdəˈskəvər) Humanity((h)yo͞oˈmanədē)

By Robyn Kanner

The calls come in during twilight(ˈtwīˌlīt). At first, the tone(tōn) is a whisper(ˈ(h)wispər). They’re trying to see if I’m someone they’re comfortable(ˈkəmftərbəl,ˈkəmfərtəbəl) with. I look for a common interest: food, film, music—anything that connects us as humans. After that, I let them lead(led,lēd).

I’ve been taking phone calls from strangers for a few months now. This practice started after I was digitally(ˈdijidəlē) shamed(SHām) on Twitter(ˈtwidər). I had written(ˈritn) an op-ed in The New York Times worrying about our culture of shame. I empathized(ˈempəˌTHīz) with a white teen(tēn) growing up in a conservative(kənˈsərvədiv), Midwestern(ˌmidˈwestərn) home. In my heart, I know a couple things to be true. We’re all human beings that deserve(dəˈzərv) the opportunity to change or grow. Speaking our truth is better than scolding(ˈskōldiNG) or silencing(ˈsīləns) the voices that we don’t like. It’s healthy to disagree.

Of course, there was a backlash(ˈbakˌlaSH). I was called racist(ˈrāsəst). My mentions(ˈmenCHən) were filled with malice(ˈmaləs). Strangers tweeted(twēt) about how they had lost respect for me. Close friends said nothing at all. I was being digitally shamed for arguing against digital shaming. A congressional(kənˈɡreSH(ə)n(ə)l) candidate(ˈkandiˌdāt, ˈkandidət) and internet influencers(ˈinflo͝oəns) urged(ərj) me to issue a public response. It’s a lonely experience to feel like the most hated(hāt) person alive for just saying what was on my mind.

So I put my phone number in my bio(ˈbīō) on Twitter. Then, when no one called, I tweeted out my number with an invitation(ˌinvəˈtāSH(ə)n) to reach out.

The first call came through around 9 at night. The caller was a librarian(līˈbre(ə)rēən) with an upbeat(ˈəpˌbēt) voice. I was prepared to answer as many questions as she needed to ask about my op-ed. Instead, she told me about the men in her life. I listened and offered any advice on men that I had—which, as a single woman, is not much. It was surprisingly(sərˈprīziNGlē) normal and, after 20 minutes, we said our goodbyes.

…
https://www.wired.com/story/why-we-love-tech-twitter-phone-humanity/

Embrace(emˈbrās) the Daring(ˈde(ə)riNG) Adventure(adˈven(t)SHər, ədˈven(t)SHər)

By Steve Pavlina

Before you embark(emˈbärk) on any path ask the question, does this path have a heart(härt)? If the answer is no, you will know it and then you must choose another path. The trouble is that nobody asks the question. And when a man finally realizes that he has taken a path without a heart the path is ready to kill him.
– Carlos(kärˈlōs) Castaneda(kəstəˈnedə)

The deeper that sorrow(ˈsärō) carves(kärv) into your being, the more joy(joi) you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine(wīn) the very cup that was burned in the potter’s(ˈpädər) oven(ˈəvən)? And is not the lute(lo͞ot) that soothes(so͞oTH) your spirit(ˈspirit), the very wood(wo͝od) that was hollowed(ˈhälō) with knives(nīvz)?
– Kahlil(kəli) Gibran(jəbrän)

Inaction(inˈakSHən) breeds doubt(dout) and fear. Action breeds confidence(-fəˌdens,ˈkänfədəns) and courage. If you want to conquer(ˈkäNGkər) fear, do not sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy.
– Dale(dāl) Carnegie(ˈkärniɡē, kärˈnāɡē)

As you develop a sense of your true purpose in life, you may begin to feel an uneasy(ˌənˈēzē) disconnect between your current(ˈkə-rənt,ˈkərənt) life situation and the one you envision(enˈviZHən) moving towards. These two worlds may seem so different to you that you cannot mentally(ˈment(ə)lē) conceive(kənˈsēv) of how to build a bridge between them. How can you balance the practical(ˈpraktək(ə)l) reality of taking care of your third-dimensional(dəˈmen(t)SH(ə)nəl) obligations(ˌäbləˈɡāSH(ə)n) like earning money to pay your bills and taxes(ˈtaksəs), pleasing(ˈplēziNG) your boss, raising(rāz) your family, and maintaining(mānˈtān) social relationships with people who can’t even relate(rəˈlāt) to what you’re experiencing vs.(
-səz,ˈvərsəs) the new vision of yourself you desperately(ˈdesp(ə)rətlē) want to move towards? A whole host of new fears may crop(kräp) up related to this seemingly(ˈsēmiNGlē) impossible shift(SHift). How will you support yourself? What will become of your relationships? Are you just deluding(dəˈlo͞od) yourself?

The best advice(ədˈvīs) I can give you here is to forget about trying to build a bridge. Focus instead on independently beginning the process(prəˈses) of manifesting(ˈmanəˌfest) the new vision of yourself from scratch(skraCH), as if it were a totally separate(ˈsep(ə)rət ˈsepəˌrāt) thread in your life. If this creates a temporary(ˈtempəˌrerē) incongruence(inˈkäNGɡro͝oənt, ˌinkənˈɡro͞oənt) in your life, just do it anyway.

…
https://www.stevepavlina.com/blog/2004/10/the-courage-to-live-consciously/

Do Not Trust(trəst) That Stranger’s(ˈstrānjər) 5-Star Review(rəˈvyo͞o)

Go with your instinct(ˈinstiNG(k)t) over the wisdom(ˈwizdəm) of the crowd(kroud).

By Joanne(jōˈan) Chen

Last Saturday, I was desperate(ˈdesp(ə)rət) for Mozart(ˈmōˌtsärt) sheet(SHēt) music. It had to be for piano, and it had to be easy to play. Out of 84 options on Amazon(-zən,ˈaməˌzän), a book with 4.7 stars caught my eye — good enough for a 9-year-old’s music-class presentation(ˌprezən-,ˌprēzən-,ˌprēˌzenˈtāSHən). Later that afternoon, I needed to book a hotel for our summer vacation(vāˈkāSHən,və-) and I trusted the 1,310 reviewers(rəˈvyo͞oər) on TripAdvisor(trip ədˈvīzər) who gave my pick an average of four stars, along with a good number of “fantastics” and “wonderfuls.”

Dinner was a 4.5 star meatloaf(ˈmēt ˌlōf) recipe(ˈresəˌpē). And this weekend, with Memorial(məˈmôrēəl) Day sales(sāl) in full swing(swiNG), I will turn to an army(ˈärmē) of online reviewers who will help me bite(bīt) the bullet(ˈbo͝olət) and replace a toilet(ˈtoilit) that has mysteriously(məˈstirēəslē) begun flushing of its own accord(əˈkôrd). Someone else will have put the time in at Home Depot(ˈde-,ˈdēpō) so I don’t have to.

But which someone? Who are these reviewers I’m trusting with my purchasing(ˈpərCHəs) decisions, big and small? I don’t know for sure, and yet I feel completely(kəmˈplētlē) stalled(stôl) until I’ve scrolled(skrōld) through everything they have to say.

It’s not that I’m afraid(əˈfrād) of a little research. As a writer at Wirecutter(wīr ˈkədər), The New York Times’s product review site, I pore(pôr) over user ratings professionally(prəˈfeSH(ə)nəlē), though I don’t rely(rəˈlī) on them solely(ˈsōl(l)ē). For my review of foam(fōm) mattresses(ˈmatrəs), I focused my efforts on extensive reporting and slept on the mattresses myself. I analyzed(ˈanlˌīz) online comments(ˈkämˌent) to deduce(dəˈd(y)o͞os) trends(trend), and I certainly didn’t take stars at face value.

…
https://www.nytimes.com/2019/05/25/opinion/sunday/five-star-customer-reviews.html

A Mindful Method(ˈmeTHəd) for When You’re Tired

By Leo Babauta

My family & I flew(flo͞o) back to California(-nēə,ˌkaləˈfôrnyə) after nine months of being in Guam(gwäm), and boy are our arms tired! OK, our entire bodies are tired, and our brains(brān) — we’re suffering from jet(jet) lag(lag) and feeling tired during the day.

This isn’t necessarily(ˌnesəˈse(ə)rəlē) a problem — jet lag is to be expected, after all — but tiredness can affect everything in your life. I find myself less able to do work, more overwhelmed when I’m behind on email and messages, less able to keep up with healthy(ˈhelTHē) habits, more likely to eat junk(jəNGk) food, and in worse(wərs) moods.

Being tired can have such huge effects on us. And many people are tired much of the time, from being overworked and underslept.

So what can we do? Well, there are the usual methods of trying to get better sleep, like better sleep hygiene(ˈhīˌjēn), setting a consistent bedtime and wake time, and so forth. These are highly recommended(ˌrekəˈmend).

But what do you do today, when you’re still tired? What can you do tomorrow if you’re tired then too?

Here’s how I try to practice in the middle of the tiredness, which is sometimes unavoidable(ˌənəˈvoidəbəl).

Recognize(ˈrekigˌnīz,ˈrekə(g)ˌnīz) that my battery(ˈbadərē) is low. First I notice that I’m feeling tired, that my capacity(kəˈpasədē) to do things is lower than normal, that I am not as sharp(sharp) or in as good a mood as I normally am (I’m normally a super dynamo(ˈdīnəˌmō), you know!). Bring awareness(əˈwernəs) to my state.

Lower my expectations(ˌekspekˈtāSHən). Next, I bring acceptance(əkˈseptəns) to the fact that I’m just not going to be super productive or on top of things as much as I’d like. I recognize and accept that I just want to curl(kərl) up in a ball, watch TV and eat junk food. With this acceptance of my lowered capacity, I try not to expect myself to get too much done.

Experience the tiredness. We try to eat junk food and procrastinate in order to not feel the tiredness. Instead, I try to actually feel it. That means to fully experience the tiredness, as if it’s just as delicious as any other experience. I try to bring curiosity(ˌkyo͝orēˈäsədē) to the experience — what is it like? How do my eyes feel behind my droopy(ˈdro͞opē) eyelids(ˈīˌlid)? What does my face feel like? What about my chest(CHest)? Throat(THrōt)? Gut(gət)? Legs? I try to feel it as an experience, not something I need to get rid(rid) of.

Give myself compassion(kəmˈpaSHən). This might be so obvious(ˈäbvēəs) or trite(trīt) that many readers will skip this step(step), but I recommend that you give this a genuine(ˈjenyo͞oən) shot. I pause(pôz) and give myself some love — I’m feeling tired and down, so I wish for my suffering to end. It’s the same feeling if someone you loved were feeling anxious(ˈaNG(k)SHəs) or hurt — how would you send them love? Do the same exact(igˈzakt) thing for yourself. This is a physical(ˈfizikəl) feeling of sending love to your tiredness, not an intellectual(ˌin(t)əˈlek(t)SH(o͞o)əl) concept(ˈkänˌsept). Practice it now!

Aim(ām) for small victories(ˈvikt(ə)rē). As I have a lowered capacity, I just try to get small victories when I can. Don’t have energy(ˈenərjē ) in the morning? Maybe I can just answer a couple of emails. Don’t have the capacity to write a blog post? Maybe I can just write two paragraphs(ˈparəˌgraf). So I’m not entirely(enˈtīrlē) abdicating(ˈabdəˌkāt) my responsibilities when I’m tired — I’m just trying to do a small amount(əˈmount). It makes a huge difference.

If I give in to temptation(tem(p)ˈtāSHən), really be present(priˈzent,ˈprezənt) with it. If I decide to go for the pizza(ˈpētsə) or ice cream(krēm), that’s nothing to feel guilty(ˈgiltē) about. But for goodness sake(sāk,ˈsäkē), don’t do it mindlessly! If I’m going to eat ice cream, I want to be entirely present with the sensation(senˈsāSHən) of the sweetness on my tongue(təNG), the coldness in my mouth, going down my throat(THrōt). Savor(ˈsāvər) it. Experience it entirely.

That’s my mindful method, and I am imperfect(imˈpərfəkt) at it. I violate(ˈvīəˌlāt) every single one of these. But I try to practice, and when I do, it’s always wonderful.

https://zenhabits.net/tired-2/

Toast(tōst)
TOAST

INT: AN ELEGANT(ˈeləgənt) RECEPTION(riˈsepSHən) HALL(hôl) — EVENING(ˈēvniNG)

Tim is giving the Best Man’s toast at Chase(CHās) and Christina’s wedding(ˈwediNG). He is holding up a flute(flo͞ot) of champagne(SHamˈpān) and has obviously(ˈäbvēəslē) had a little too much already.

Tim

Ahem(əˈhəm, əˈhm). Hello…everyone. As you probably know, I’m the best man. Although I’m here to stand by the groom(gro͝om,gro͞om), I’m actually honored(ˈänər) to be a close friend of the bride’s(brīd) as well. That’s how you get good real estate(iˈstāt) at the reception tables: befriend(bəˈfrend) Chase(CHās) and Christina separately(ˈsep(ə)rətlē). It’s nice because I’ve gotten to see two people find each other, and to experience how much happier they are together than apart(əˈpärt).

(Pauses(pôz) to take a drink)

Oh, sorry. Not done toasting(tōst) yet. I have to talk about the groom! What can I say? Chase and I have been friends since we were six years old. Six. He just walked up at lunch and said he had pudding(ˈpo͝odiNG) and what did I have? and-bam(bam)-we were best buds(bəd). At six years old, pudding is the sacred(ˈsākrəd) cup of friendship. From then on, you’re basically(ˈbāsik(ə)lē) brothers. You share everything, whether you want to or not, you know?

(Pauses for laughter(ˈlaftər), looks at Christina)

Oh, jeez(jēz), Chris, I didn’t mean it like that…

(Pauses to take a drink during laughter)

Okay okay okay, wait, I have to tell you how I met Christina, too.

We did cross-country together freshman(ˈfreSHmən) year of college(ˈkälij), before Chase drop-moved back home. Okay, so it was really wet that spring, and I was sitting in the grass(gras) under the bleachers(ˈblēCHər) during a home meet, listening to the rain on the metal(ˈmedl) seats(sēt) above my head. And Chris ducks(dək) under there, with a purpose, you know? To get dry, I thought? She’s soaking(ˈsōkiNG), and her hair is in like a wet braid(brād), not like that fancy(ˈfansē)-schmancy(Shəˈmansē) do-up-ha(hä), updo, whatever, Chris, you know what I meant!-she’s got today.

(Pauses to take a drink, looks steadily(ˈstedəlē) at Christina)

And she lies(lī) down in the wet grass right next to me, with her shoulder(ˈSHōldər) against my hip(hip), and she hooks her feet on the underside of the bleachers(ˈblēCHər) above my head. And she looks up, right at me, and she says, she goes, “Where do you think birds go when it rains? Do you think they have a way of keeping warm?” Like this is a normal question to ask a relative(ˈrelədiv) stranger.

And that’s what’s so special about Christina, I think. I’m not sure I appreciated(əˈprēSHēˌāt) it then, but that was before I went to Spain(spān) and found out how quickly your life can change when you leave it behind. I should’ve told her right then what a…an incandescent(ˌinkənˈdesənt) person she was. Most people barely(ˈbe(ə)rlē) think about the stuff that’s right in front of them, so it takes someone really special to wonder about birds’ happiness when they’re not even there.

I just don’t know how often you find someone who still thinks about you, so long after you’re gone.

https://www.instantmonologues.com/preview/Toast