I am always amazed by people who can publish small nuggets of insight on an astonishingly consistent basis. Liz—along with Seth—is one of those people. Chris recently published a recap of some of Liz’s best posts. I began drafting my own, but it ended up looking almost identical to Chris’s list.

Chris Bowler writes:

Liz Danzico is one of my favorite writers, but picking just one post for a #pastblast is a bit futile. Instead, here are a collection of my favorites. Liz speaks eloquently on many topics, including:

Making real commitments in A Canceling Culture:¹

Rescheduling appointments has suddenly become acceptable. Whether it’s because our calendars are digital or our schedules are triangulated moments at a time, juggling has become a cultural habit. And it’s uncomfortable, not to mention inconvenient.

Stewardship in Tag Off:

The physical item decision, then, is almost inconsequential. Tags need to be taken off with abandon. But our ability, our generosity — with people, with ideas, — isn’t to be stored and saved for some future unidentified date. It should be used and shared until it’s threadbare, and then some. Take the tags off.

Asking for what we want in Sweet Simplicity:

By introducing a greeting this way, you’ve assumed a context that may or may not be true. When we request value from another, we often make assumptions that impose another story on the individual. You know your own context, your own taste. Nothing more. Instead, be simple in your request. Just ask without assumptions.

Trees, weeds, roots and urban sprawl in The Taxonomy of the Invisible:

Perhaps it’s the way we’ve been taught. I thought back to “weeding,” a good-hearted but somewhat totalitarian weekend activity in my parents’ garden, one I frequently attempted to escape. On Saturday mornings, my parents would announce “weeding orders” for the four children, and we were to set out, in the hot sun, the driving rain, the falling leaves of autumn, and attack. They saw no boundaries.

On happiness in More Focus:

I’m not certain how long happy is, and, now that I think about it, I’m happy not to know. That’s part of the joy, in fact. The not knowing. It’s a common question, “How long will this happiness last?” we wonder, then forget when it just keeps going.

Load up that Instapaper queue folks.