Iceland redux

Lovely mild and foggy morning, after a restless night. Meant to be here earlier for it. I’m trying to re-set the biological clock, to get myself up and going even earlier to reclaim this time of day before getting sucked into the perpetual school-day whirl. Also trying to heed Randy Pausch’s time management wisdom about not dragging around a sleep deficit, the great time killer.

So when the iPod sounded at 5 I just couldn’t spring eagerly into the pre-dawn dark, this time. Eric Weiner’s wonderful Geography of Bliss was playing, and I lingered to tempt myself again with the improbable seduction of a charmed life in Iceland. Really.

One of the Icelanders was making a lot of sense, to my sleep-deprived waking state of semi-consciousness, talking about how our restrictive imaginations rule out possibilities whose pursuit would likely raise the rate of “flow” in our lives.  We limit ourselves to a single identity, when we could all be leading many successive lives. When Americans think about going somewhere, he said, they think of places like North Carolina or North Dakota. (Yeah, North Dakota: where college professors get free iPads.) They don’t think of Reykjavik.

Well, today I’m thinking of it. I’ll think of it again, later, in commuter traffic. I’ll also think of the possibilities inherent in really committing to a place like home.

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