A Different View

When I was young, I loved to hang my head off of the side of my bed and look at my room upside down. It was funny to think of walking across the ceiling as if it was the floor, and to see everything stuck firmly to the floor that had become the ceiling. Recently, I’ve been stretching by the water and looking through my legs when I touch my toes or during downward dog. It’s hard to stop looking as the water becomes the sky and boats “fly” across it. My brain seems to like the novelty if nothing else. I suppose that sometimes the world needs to be turned upside down as a reminder of its strange complexity that we seem to take for granted (especially as we get older).

Looking at the world upside down made me fantasize about other changes in my surroundings that would be interesting (at least to me). I looked up at the stars last night and thought it would be cool to see them move across the sky like schools of fish or flocks of birds. I walked outside mid-morning and wondered what it would be like if the sun was lime green, turquoise, maroon, or navy blue (or any other odd color). This train of thought also made me realize how many ideas have already been heavily used in non-fiction/fantasy.

The anthropomorphizing of trees, flowers, and animals came to mind first, followed by zoomorphizing humans and plants. The more my mind tried to come up with truly novel ideas/changes, the more I was reminded that they had mostly all been conveyed in some way or another. This made fantasizing about them no less entertaining, but I did become slightly awestruck by how difficult it is to come up with something truly unique/novel in the modern world. I obviously am not the first person to wish the world was different at times, and I won’t be the last.

Out of all of the interesting thoughts that came to mind, the most interesting was the power and ability of the human mind to create, alter, invent, daydream, and fantasize. The mind seems to possess a ceaseless desire for change (whether “real” or fantasy) matched by an infinite capacity and capability to create it (even if only in one’s mind’s eye). It was a good reminder that while we must inherently navigate the “real” world in order to survive, one’s mind can be a safe haven for peace, creativity, and thoughts that are capable of withstanding any external disturbance. Some people turn their inner worlds off. Some people live in them entirely. I think a healthy connection with your inner world makes life more livable, but that could just be me.

Howl at The Moon

(Try it sometime…you won’t…)

I have a confession to make. Two nights ago (on a whim) I walked out into my yard naked and howled at the harvest moon a few times. Dogs within earshot barked in confusion, I smiled, stared into the lustrous glow for a few minutes, and then I walked back inside. Yes, that may seem pretty strange, but it’s not like anyone saw me. It was also pretty funny and I highly recommend trying it sometime as long as you’re secluded enough to do so. It’s not that exciting, but it does incur a sense of bestial/animalistic release that I feel modern humans do not get to exercise nearly enough (outside of sex I suppose). That’s not the confession I needed to make, however.

I must confess that the world has become somewhat strange and distant to me. At times I feel as if I have been stranded on an unfamiliar planet. The endless array of flora and fauna never ceases to amaze me. I have recently developed a deeper sense of awe and appreciation for everything from dragonflies to blue trumpet flowers, fawns to oak trees, red-tailed hawks to English ivy, etc. This isn’t to say that I now feel like Sir David Attenborough by any means…rather far from it (unfortunately I dare say). When paired with the “goldilocks” predicament that the Earth is in for all this life to flourish (including myself), my amazement begins to take a strange turn.

I pedal my bike down to the Patuxent River nearly every morning and evening. I see the light and feel the warmth from our closest star. Sensationally, it is very pleasant and at times it is aesthetically beyond description. However, my mind wanders to the facts that the sky is actually violet, and the sun is actually white. It then jumps to the fact that the earth is spinning at roughly 1,000 miles per hour while orbiting the sun (approximately 94,000,000 miles away) at approximately 67,000 miles per hour/~18.5 miles per second/93,000,000 miles per year. At 33 years old, I have already traveled over 3 billion miles and counting aboard spaceship Earth. Admittedly, the scope and scale of this nearly unfathomable quantitative onslaught, coupled with the sensational trickery/perceptual mind game, slows my pedaling and I am left with an uneasy feeling that could only be described as vertigo.

Luckily, eventually a sense of relief overwhelms the vertigo. A feeling of calm reassurance trickles through and permeates my being. Despite the confounding circumstances of our planet in the Orion Arm of the Milky Way, to a certain degree, all is well (relatively speaking). That is, well enough for me to perceive my surroundings “clearly” enough for me to contemplate the validity of my sensory experience and to reflect on the truly precarious nature of life in all of its forms, and my own subjective existence and experience. I find myself experiencing this existential vertigo several times a week, and sometimes more (much more than I should in my opinion…I sometimes wish that I never experienced it and that I could dance through life like a blissful, blithering idiot with a head full of football stats and/or pop culture). But, thus is not life, and I must play the hand that I have been dealt as best as I can. If nothing else, the sensation eventually fills me with a deep sense of gratitude for all aspects of “life”.

Oddly enough, while my awe and appreciation for the sustained and seemingly ceaseless dance of Mother Nature (any and all of it, including the interplay between weather and inorganic matter) increases, my ability to confirm it as “concrete” in the physical sense weakens. Everything has begun to feel distant and far away no matter how close I am. It is as if all that I perceive (sometimes including myself) is a veneer of something far more elusive and complex. In a sense, that is true due to the structure and nature of molecules, particles, quarks, gluons, etc., of course. However, I can’t help but feel that the fundamental nature of reality goes much further beyond/beneath that. Perhaps, it does, but it exists in such a way that it can never be fully grasped or understood? I am unsure of whether or not reality/life/existence (whatever you would like to call it) including myself, all life, all the cosmos etc., is/are comprised of energy and simultaneously altered by observation, but recently it seems to be utterly True.

So, even if that is the case, what am I left with if there is nothing concrete to hold onto? I am still left with my own perception of reality, my conscious field, my environment, the beings that I come into contact with throughout the course of my life, and my interactions with them. Ultimately, it seems as if that really is all you need to stay firmly grounded in the present. The “now” really is all we have. Being able to experience “the now” is an incredible gift, but being able to experience it and share it with others really does seem to be the purpose/meaning of life. At least, that’s how it seems to me.

P.S. Maybe this makes me sound crazy…and maybe I am. But, I’d rather be “crazy” and spend my time creating art and writing for those whom I love than being “normal” and spending my weekend crushing beers and watching genetic mutants on PED’s turn each other’s brains into mashed potatoes/indulge in any other widespread form of Americana. It doesn’t make me or my choices better or worse, only different. To each their own though I suppose.

Look Back and Laugh

I hope…

We used to laugh. We used to laugh a lot. I think that’s what I miss the most about us…our shared sense of humor that resiliently resonated and permeated our interactions no matter what. It has been much more difficult to look down the road of life and continue to walk it without those laughs. I miss them. I miss them a lot. Recently, the walk has been filled with sighs instead of laughs. Most everything reminds me of you, but when I look beside me to see your familiar face, you’re no longer there. It saddens me to think that you may be feeling the same way that I do (although you may not care at all apparently…). I hope that you don’t. Honestly, I hope with all my heart that you are finding the peace and happiness that you have been seeking, even if it is without me. It may just be me, but the space that you left could never be filled with anything or anyone else. I’m not sure if that is something that I will ever get used to. Life will truly never be the same without you.

There are so many things that I see and do that I wish that I could share with you. I know that your impression/reaction would only make them funnier. I know that your laugh would only make me do the same. I know that we would pingpong comments back and forth at each other. I also know that we would lose track of what the other had said while attempting to come up with our own retorts, and one of us would call the other out (yeah, but did you hear what I said?…not really lol) both of which would only make it funnier. I still cherish all of the things we shared in so many ways. I miss our intense physical connection, oddly familiar emotional connection, and our ineffable spiritual connection. I also miss discussing literature, sharing poems, taking walks, observing nature, philosophizing, enjoying the small things, and daydreaming about the future. But, I miss your sense of humor, your personality, and the sound of your laugh the most. I hope that one day you and I can look back on this time and laugh the way that we used to…I really do.

You Rake…

Recently found rakish trees…

I recently found a tree eating (stroking?) another tree in public…a second tree that was just begging me to kiss it…and another tree that told everyone it loves them indiscriminately…unreal. Trees have no morals. Tisk tisk.

La Nausée

Today I attended a women’s soccer game at the local college. I only stayed for approximately twenty or thirty minutes. My short stay didn’t transpire because the game wasn’t enjoyable, it was because I began to feel nauseous (in the Sartrean sense). The sensation eased in mildly, almost imperceptibly, and commenced with the thought of someone close to me playing the same sport in a similar setting and a similar uniform, although in a different decade. 

I began wondering what it would have been like to watch her play and I started daydreaming about doing so (…s’hot, s’athletic lol). That brought on a deluge of absurd reasons why the game would have been more fun to watch had she been playing in it (I also would have given her a big hug and tried to put a smile on her face after the game no matter whether she won or lost). As my mind wandered to fictitious and entertaining scenarios, the entire setting became like a hologram of sorts (not sensationally in the literal sense) that could have been interchangeable in innumerable eras and locales around the world. The time, location, sport, teams, players, refs, crowd, weather etc. could have all been singularly or wholly replaced, but fundamentally the occasion would have largely remained “the same”. The transparency of it all allowed my mind to jump to everything from sociology to quantum field theory and everything in between. 

The social reasons for participation in athletics, e.g., camaraderie, health, enjoyment, community, familial expectations, school spirit, social status, and reproductive potential (and more) came to light first. These young women had spent countless hours over the course of many years in order to compete and to maintain their ability to compete (the same is true for all athletes I suppose). They had simultaneously juggled their education, health, relationships, and other goals in the process (and avoided death from all angles no less). Each of them had their own unique combination of reasons and/or rationale for pursuing this sport, and each of their journeys had culminated (at least for today) in the game that I was watching. The social reasons for spending so many hours training to chase a ball, control it, and kick it into a net were odd enough, but as I began to dig deeper, my urge to leave became palpable. 

My own perception of this individual game, what brought me there, reminiscing about the countless hours I had spent for the opportunity to compete in similar venues myself, the cliche commentary and prideful smiles of parents in the stands, the intensity of emotion in certain players and lack thereof in the benchwarmers, the referees who were wrong 50% of the time and wrong the other 50%, the lackluster student section, nature carrying on and nearly oblivious to all of it…it all began to feel nauseating…utterly absurd. The strange feeling began to increase when I was struck with the notion that certain chapters in our lives are short-lived, have a limited cast of characters, and we can only experience them by memory, word of mouth, or recorded media. The nausea worsened as the sinking sensation of the inevitable failure of memory, the convolution of details, and the blur this day would become, for myself and anyone else less than a century from now, began to suffocate me. Other than photographs, a stat sheet, or a video, it would be as if the whole thing never happened…as if none of us existed that day. 

It intensified when all human beings in my conscious field began to merge with their usual “separateness” from all other matter. All human beings’ bones, blood, internal organs, muscles, sinews, hair, skin, voices etc. and all their functions and movements became enmeshed in time and space as if they were comprised of the same molecules as the sky, the breeze, the sunshine, the trees in the background, the netting of the goals, or the turf itself. The entire scene became a living, breathing, entity of its own (and no, I was not experiencing synesthesia). The only sense of separateness that remained was my own; viewing the scene as something outside of myself…which quickly dissolved as I realized that all others at that setting viewed me as something external (unless someone was having a similar experience at that exact moment…or maybe some people always view life through that lens…I don’t know but, part of me envies them if so).

Does matter exist if “we” do not? Could we “exist” if matter did not? Are they codependent? What does separate “us” from the rest of matter (or, are we separate whatsoever?)? Our thoughts and dreams (supposedly complex electrical and neurochemical activity in our brains)? Is it cognitive biases centered on treating those similar to our own organic makeup as something “special” or unique? Is it consciousness (higher? debatable at times…more complex, maybe)? Is it our social connections and networks that make human beings feel distinct from all other life and matter? Or is it purely a matter of subjective perspective that cannot be sidestepped, transgressed, or bypassed entirely? 

I began to ponder all of this, and my nausea began to build to a crescendo. Like an anvil dropped from the clouds, it then seemingly hit me all at once…I was suddenly reminded of quantum field theory and the notion that everything really is “one and the same”. I too was a part of that living, breathing, entity…in a way I was that entity, and indeed the entire human race, globe, planets, sun, solar system, galaxy, and universe were as well. “As above, so below, as within, so without, as the universe, so the soul…” The separateness we experience from and with others, all other lifeforms, and all forms of matter (or lack thereof), including the separation between our inner and outer worlds…is purely an illusion (or at least that’s how it seems…but how would anyone truly know with our limited sensory bandwidth, inclusive of our tools/apparatus to enhance them?). 

Anyway, my mind had started down a path of loving daydreams, became sidetracked in a thicket of social constructs, utterly lost in the ineffable scope and scale of the universe, and came full circle…back to the love that my mind inevitably returns to. At that point, I could no longer focus, and woozily walked out of the stadium in the middle of the contest amidst the molecular blur of inorganic matter and humanity. Human, all too human…and I had to leave. I drove out of the parking lot surrendering to yet another day without her. As I regained my bearings, I couldn’t help but smile about the look on her face in the passenger seat had I tried to explain to her what I had just experienced (likely a sideways glance and a mix of surprise and disbelief lol…I can see it now). Maybe some day I’ll be able to tell her in person…fingers, toes, and eyes crossed.

You in Me and Me in You

There's a lot of you in me...                                                                                                                      You are always in my heartbeat, always in my thoughts and dreams.          
You're there for me, always will be, or at least that's how it seems.                                    You rain down from clouds and starlight, while the wind whispers your name. 
I can see you in the distance, you're my one and true twin flame.                                                                 I can feel your touch in sunshine and on walks through morning dew.                              I can't help it, but I realize...there's a lot of me in you. 

Kintsugi In The Summer

It’s mid-August…I don’t know where to begin. There are so many things that I wish I could say, but most of them will have to wait. Some things may never be expressed again, and those to whom I wish I could say them may never listen. So much has happened in so little time. The days and weeks have been long, but the months have passed quickly; so much so that I can scarcely believe that fall is approaching. There have been several days with a chill in the air, and I have noticed that a few leaves have already begun their yearly transformation. These minor changes are indicators that summer is ending all too quickly, reminders that Mother Nature’s incessant cycles stop for no man, and that time lost can never be recovered…that this past summer is essentially over, but it will never be forgotten. 

I have rewound, replayed, and revisited many moments from the past few months. There have been some very good times sprinkled in with long stretches of very difficult times…likely the most painful and most difficult that I have ever experienced. Things have been much different than I had anticipated. Honestly, they have been almost as far removed from my initial vision for this timeframe as I could imagine. I revisit my hopes and dreams for this past spring and summer and beyond, and I can only manage a tepid laugh of disbelief in the face of my diametrically opposed reality…and then the sadness and tears return, and I am left reaching out for the fleeting mirage of what could have been. 

The dreams and visions of new beginnings, a renewed vigor and lust for life, expeditious reconciliation of the past, and high hopes for a happy future have all but disintegrated. The more I attempted to hold onto them, cling to their possibility, and attach to their expected outcomes, the more unattainable they became. They ran through my fingers like water as I reached out to grab them and dripped into the murky depths of the future unknown. They have been replaced with the crushing pain of heartbreak that comes with unrequited love, the cold and unforgiving cruelty of radio silence, the almost unbearable dread of regret, the torment of the unknown, the fear and anxiety of prolonged instability, and the vertigo-inducing mental void that comes with loss. 

The life I once lived has shattered into pieces. I am picking up what has remained, and I am attempting to put it back together. Some pieces are unfixable, some are fixable but forever changed, some no longer fit, some are no longer needed, and the piece that made my life feel complete…is missing. I’m optimistic about finding it again someday…I can’t explain why, but I’m sure that no matter what happens or how long it takes to find it, it will still fit perfectly. I guess only time will tell. There is also a piece that I had never held before, but I am certain that it was there. I hadn’t noticed it until recently, but the hole it left is unmistakable and impossible to ignore. I am already recognizing that no matter how hard I try to put my life back together, it will never be the same. I can only hope that like Kintsugi, eventually, I will be able to reconstruct a new and more beautiful life from this seemingly disastrous occurrence to the benefit of all pieces involved.

Navy vs. Air Force (An Account of a “Football Game”)

I took my three-year-old son to a college football game approximately a week ago. It was between the United States Naval Academy (Navy) and the United States Air Force Academy (Air Force). I would like to say that the premise of the event centered around a football game, but viewing the event through the eyes of my three-year-old son made it apparent that it was so much more than that. Before the game started, a squadron of fighter jets flew over the stadium. This was followed by five paratroopers that jumped out of a plane and gracefully landed on the field about thirty yards away. The entire Navy football event was centered around patriotism, nationalism, structured inter-institutional competitiveness, and social habituation. That may sound vague. Frankly, the whole event felt like a vague expression of traditionalist nationalism.

I people-watched most of the event. I loved seeing the general trend of the attendees (straight-edge conservative types) with a dash of hippies, a sprinkle of underage patrons who had yet to fully assimilate, and a wide variety of characters who didn’t quite fit the mold. My son and I walked around in relatively outspoken Hawaiian shirts that were commented on repeatedly. I assume the lack of conformity made people uncomfortable? Or, perhaps they truly were “rad” shirts. I will currently assume the former. Either way, it was fun to stand out in a way that subtly ruffled feathers indirectly.

It was interesting to explain the acts and actions surrounding the opening ceremony in particular. Explaining why 4,000+ people were wearing the same outfit and walking in unison onto the field was another piece altogether. I dared not explain that it was an impressive show of brainwashing and coercion on the part of our federal government, but rather, a collective expression of our innate human need for meaning, purpose, and affiliation. I doubt he understood most of it. I figured that it was worth the effort regardless of his apparent inability to comprehend why everyone was standing up as a piece of multi-colored cloth rose slowly up a massive metal pole, why everyone put their hands across their hearts, why a small group of teenagers yelled “Oh!” during, and why everyone could sit back down afterward.

I thought, “Wait a second. Why do we do all of these things?” I have been doing these things my whole life. I marched onto that field over ten years ago. I wore that white uniform. I bought into everything that I had been told. I was convinced of the prestige. I had taken part in the collaborative effort to extinguish the Middle East’s influence on our sovereignty. I had been a cog in that massive wheel that perpetuated the belief in “something more”. I am still a cog in an even larger wheel that supplies the funding for both institutions essentially just from being alive and a law-abiding citizen in this relatively peaceful and democratic society.

I began to once again question the socially constructed habits. I began to view the Navy football ceremony and all of its pieces as powerful pageantry; and nothing more. The belief in those symbols is what gave those actions power. It is that same belief that gives power to institutional symbols, colors, and culture. It is that same belief that provides the infrastructure that supports those institutions through tax dollars generated by the belief in cultural norms and habituations that perpetuate the cyclical motion of economic turnover. Nothing new. Sociology is riddled with reasons for this behavior. Seeing all of these events through the eyes of my toddler reminded me that so much of life happens unconsciously (especially as we get older).

Not all of the Navy football game seems extraneous, useless, or superfluous. Not by any means. Those powerful constructs provide so much meaning and purpose to lives that may have been riddled with incongruity, listlessness, and a lack of motivation. They are the bulwark against a life lived without a sense of purpose, however, it seems rather trivial to say that any of it should exist, to begin with. That is not to say that if you begin to unravel the reasons as to why they won’t lead you to rational and objective reasons that make sense based on historic events. I guess answering his rather trivial questions allowed me to see the entire event through a new lens. However, the more it changes, the more it stays the same.

shttps://www.espn.com/college-football/game/_/gameId/401301004

Who/What Am I?

So. Here I am. Again. Where is “here”? Who is “I”? “I” am apparently some relatively intelligent ape (relative in terms of other life on this planet, although I think dolphins and whales are relatively intelligent as well (among other beings)). Also, relatively in terms of other apes on this planet. Is that the “here”? -a water-covered rock orbiting an insignificant star in a galaxy among potentially trillions of other galaxies? “Again”? In terms of blogging? Sitting in front of my laptop? Being human? Having this sensational experience? I am unsure of how many times I have actually performed any and all of those. I have a first-person perspective of my fingers tapping out the letters to this blog post. Who is moving the fingers? Who is tapping the keys? Am I in control of this action? Who is “I” again?

Often times I look in the mirror and I see “myself”. I see the familiar features and the familiar expressions. I see the hazel eyes that seem to change color with my mood and what I’m wearing. I see my broken nose and deviated septum. I see how I have aged. I see all of it. That’s who “I” am. Right? That is “me”. The ape. The intelligent ape on this water-covered rock. Okay. That’s fine. I’ll accept that. But, what am I doing here? What is my purpose? Why do “I” exist? Millions of years of evolution…following countless eons of matter (mostly dark) and energy (mostly dark) colliding and combining (apparently the stars, planets, and galaxies that can be seen make up only 4 percent of the known universe and the other 96 percent is made of stuff astronomers can’t see, detect, or even comprehend) to produce…me. And all of you. Okay. But, for what? To experience and learn from each other? Maybe. Maybe not.

If the known universe is mostly unknown to our sensory experience…am “I” too, unknown to myself? Can I “see” or “know” myself in my basest form? Just as astronomers cannot truly experience the cosmos for what it is, am I not a microcosm of the incomprehensible fabric from which I have sprung? Are we universal anomalies? Cosmic accidents? I mean, if you look around at the state of the globe, it makes sense as to why we may deem ourselves as accidents. What a terrible mess we have made of our planet. In the name of what? Status? Economic fame? Fame in general? Recognition? – superficial symbols that are socially constructed to begin with. What good is money when it can’t buy a functioning ecological system? What good is space travel when species are going extinct at an unprecedented rate? What good is fame when there is no clean water to drink? What good is status when it is too hot to venture outdoors? What a comical mess we have made of things here. And for what? So other “intelligent” apes will validate who “we” are and what we are doing? Disturbing at best.

The other notion that crosses my mind is solipsism. Solipsism, for those of you who don’t know, is the concept that the “self” is all that can be known to exist. All of the aforementioned concepts are constructs of my own doing. All of it. The universe. Time. Space. Self. Travel. Species. Intelligence. All of it. It is my own subjective experience and all of you reading this are as well. Bizarre. I know. I can’t truly convince myself otherwise, however, for the sake of my own mental well-being, and likely for the sake of all of you, I will refrain from crawling down that rabbit hole. Let’s just say that at the very least, all of you are experiencing your own version of solipsism…funny to think about, I know. All of you intelligent apes could think that you are the center of the universe, and no intelligent ape (or higher power of your own construction) could prove you otherwise. Comical at best.

“Consciousness just ‘is’…” I heard that from a well-known guru recently. Profound. But, also, how commonly apathetic. Okay. Awesome. This (this whole experience) just “is”. It is like the air we breathe. It is inescapable. We need not think about it because we cannot contextualize our experience without it to begin with. All of our thinking/intelligence etc. is ineffective because of well, in my opinion, technically solipsism. Lol. Also comical. But, in all due respect…aren’t all answers for our existential questions? What a terrible bore this life would be if we knew all of the answers. I can only hope that we know very little…and even at the end, we are only given enough of a sliver of information to continue our infinite journey (if our journey is actually infinite, if we need “information”, or if we are actually on a “journey” to begin with). No answers. Only questions. As of now, this experience is rather nice. Sensations are an incredible thing. If this post is making you feel down (and even if it’s not) take a second to realize all of the events and people that must have existed in order for you to come across this post. It is the most incredible thing you have ever experienced…I say this because the past may not actually exist…and neither may the future. But, thank you for joining me. I hope all is well.

Memorial

I recently attended my late uncle’s memorial service. He was 63 years old. My uncle worked hard his whole life, raised a family, and had many hobbies. At the end of 63 years, a brief memorial service was held, a slideshow of good times was presented, and his workplace (the DOD) sent a bouquet. His life was encapsulated in those signs of honor, affection, and memorial. And that was it. It was not that the service lacked significance or meaning, it was just bizarre that an entire lifetime could be bundled into such a neat little package. He will live on in our lives only as a memory from this point forward. That is both fascinating and a little scary to me.

We are only here for a short time. At the end of it, we will live on only as a memory in the lives of those whom we have left an impression. And on a long enough time scale, even the memories will fade into obliteration. This provides relief in terms of nullifying the need to take life too seriously, but also makes me teeter on the verge of not taking it seriously at all. Do I need to take it seriously? Do any of us? “Seriously” is a relative term I suppose. On the one hand, the memorial service made me want to squeeze out every last drop of the time I have left, and on the other hand, it made me want to take a step back, recenter, and focus on the present. Wouldn’t forcing the issue only make time go by more quickly and disallow us from being fully present as we focus on leapfrogging from one experience to the next? I suppose a balance is needed.

Take things seriously that require a serious approach. Treat everything else with a lantern (rather than a laser) consciousness and immerse yourself in the experience. Notice all of the subtle nuances; all of the sounds, tastes, textures, sights, and smells. Be fully present. Because in the end, the present is all we have. Our linear view of life due to the unrelenting direction of the “arrow of time” (we continually progress towards the future) leaves us feeling as if we are watching the grains of sand in our hourglass slowly drop right before our eyes. The other facet to consider is that our hourglass may break at any moment. Here today and gone tomorrow. Gone this instant. If you knew this next hour was your last, would you treat it differently? Would you treat yourself differently? Would you treat others differently? What would you say? To whom would you say it?

We spend so much of our existence lost in the infinite pool of thoughts between our ears. We are both the speaker and the listener and so much of what we experience (if not all of it) is subjected to our preconceived notions, biases, and projections. Experiencing “reality” for what it truly is, is limited by our sensory faculties and the tools that humanity has made. So much of reality cannot be truly experienced in its basest form. We are left with what we have been given and what we have managed to create. To be blunt, I think that is more than enough. In the Information Age, there is never of lack of learning to be done, new things to see, new people to meet, or new places to experience. To be bored is to be boring. Branch out. Meet new people. Do new things. Visit new places. Learn as much as possible to enrich your experience. To do otherwise would be a waste of life. In my humble opinion at least…so, on second thought… do as you please. Spend your life however you deem fit. No answers. Only questions. I hope you all find the combination of peace, clarity, and contentedness that seems to elude me constantly.

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