A living collection of notes, ideas, and reflections from Doug Belshaw.
As I think I've mentioned previously, in the past few weeks I've had a couple of conversations which were incredibly eye-opening to me. I think it's quite likely that I have what has, since 2013, been referred to as AuDHD. Essentially, it's something different to autism and ADHD when each are present individually, and is instead a complex, ever changing relationship.
…Let it be clear to you that the peace of green fields can always be yours, in this, that, or any other spot; and that nothing is any different here from what it would be either up in the hills, or down by the sea, or wherever else you will. You will find the same thought in Plato, where he speaks of living within the city walls ‘as though milking his flocks in a mountain sheepfold’.
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(via Laura Olin's newsletter)
Worth remembering. We're all different shapes, colours, and sizes on the outside, and also have different wiring on the inside.
Source: Are.na
Sometimes, it's easy to forget that despite the world's problems, the chances are we would all much rather be alive now than in times past.
Why? Here's 5 reasons:
It's a bit of a coincidence that the main protagonist in both the last book I read and the current book I'm reading are both the same age as me. Our Man in Havana by Graham Greene was absolutely fantastic, and I'm enjoying the modern James Bond novel Solo by William Boyd so far.
…One of the advantages and drawbacks of having studied Philosophy, History, Education, and Systems Thinking while having a background in technology is that you realise that everything... is just made up. Not just in a Steve Jobs "everything around you around was made by someone no smarter than you" kind of way, but in a William James "blooming, buzzing confusion" kind of way.
…On the one hand, it feels quite momentous. On the other, it doesn't feel like that much of a big deal. I've archived my writing from 2006-2026 at archive.dougbelshaw.com and redirected all links from Open Thinkering, Thought Shrapnel, and Ambiguiti.es.
…One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin. He lay on his armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little he could see his brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiff sections. The bedding was hardly able to cover it and seemed ready to slide off any moment. His many legs, pitifully thin compared with the size of the rest of him, waved about helplessly as he looked.
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