Notes from a Linguistic Mystic

As I mentioned yesterday, I’m in the process of switching my brain to a Dvorak keyboard. With only a few days practice, what I could once type quickly is currently an ordeal.

This has been oddly good for my locquacious self. Something that’s worth saying in seconds, I’m finding, isn’t worth saying in minutes, and when every word feels like work, words must be willfully chosen. Slowing down has made me savor language for the first time in years.

An unanticipated consequence, but a pleasant one.


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