"We are but a speck in a vast universe, whose depth and distance we can only begin to fathom. A universe of darkness pierced with light and held within the claws of mystery. Through the efforts of our minds and our wills and our desires, we have built machines and telescopes and satellites to peer as far as we can—stretching, straining, aching—in order to construct another world out of data and theories, revelation and faith. It is imagery bolstered with fantasy, and this is and always will be the limit of our experience."
And so begins my essay titled "A Birth We Did Not Choose"—an essay that will not only be entered in an upcoming writing contest, but is the first in a collection of essays I'm writing that will fall under the book title The Art of Being Relevant.
The past month has been filled with the writings of others and a quiet gathering of my own thoughts and words. Brief flashes, glimpses, celebrations of light have pierced the waking (and dreaming) hours of my days fueling my entry into the ...<< MORE >>
Over the past several years, I have become increasingly fascinated by the rise of Libertarianism throughout the mainstream political landscape. Like a weed, like an invasive moss—it is trying desperately to find a place to take root and spread. Despite the ridiculousness of certain Tea Party representatives—on the surface—most fed-up American citizens will give a sympathetic nod to a Libertarian political platform of less government, less military invasion and involvement in foreign nations, and an end to economic "stimulus" attempts.
So what is it that holds these same citizens back from putting all their fury and might behind a political idea that could significantly change—dare I say for the better—the way America acts and operates both at home and abroad? What keeps these citizens from accepting an economic platform that—if adhered to strictly and absolutely—would eventually pay down America's debt and (hopefully) result in the elimination of the income tax? What keeps them ...<< MORE >>
Not unlike a million slugs making their way down a mountain, so is the progress of my writing projects. A non-avalanche that destroys nothing, threatens no one, and does not alter the landscape in any way shape or form. Yay for me. I’ve accomplished nothing.
The past few weeks have been an endless wrestling match with my shadow, with the clock, with the demands of my job and those around me. GRRRRROWL! Will I ever be able to remove these claws from my arms? From my legs?! From my chest?!# From my neck?!!##!
Taking a cue from the horses I used to train, my first reaction is one of flight.
Not the best attitude to have in the morning, throughout the day, into the evening. Battling a “to do” list that I would like nothing more than to rip into tiny pieces and throw into an oncoming hailstorm, it gets to the point where I’m simply angry to be alive. What!??! I ...<< MORE >>