“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
Sometimes I go blind. Just partially. They're called visual migraines. The wiring in the optical part of my brain, apparently, gets a little confused. So, on occasion, a part of the world goes fuzzy.
The interesting part, though, is when sight returns. It's sudden, like a wave rushing through my eyes. I'm initially untrusting. I probe the corners to test if it's true. And then, as relief finally settles in, I greedily peer around a world in perfect focus. For a few minutes, before minutiae renders me sightless again, I see everything.
Human beings are small. We are apt to magnify our lives amid a world that cares little for men and women. We are born, we work, we die. But causes go on forever. And people's hearts are tied into the struggles of life through stories. I want to write stories that make people believe in a better world.
I'm going to be a journalist. I believe in stories. I believe in their power to change the world. To let us see, sometimes for the first time, what we look at every day.
The interesting part, though, is when sight returns. It's sudden, like a wave rushing through my eyes. I'm initially untrusting. I probe the corners to test if it's true. And then, as relief finally settles in, I greedily peer around a world in perfect focus. For a few minutes, before minutiae renders me sightless again, I see everything.
Human beings are small. We are apt to magnify our lives amid a world that cares little for men and women. We are born, we work, we die. But causes go on forever. And people's hearts are tied into the struggles of life through stories. I want to write stories that make people believe in a better world.
I'm going to be a journalist. I believe in stories. I believe in their power to change the world. To let us see, sometimes for the first time, what we look at every day.
— Charles Duhigg