Witt's End

I have to write on the current state of War. I feel a compulsion. It is my realization that I just have to be measured. So I will attempt to.  It is not my intention to here debate the political decisions behind the current conflict with Iran. I am also not here to debate the tactical decision making. There's a simple answer why, I'm still gathering information. I have to do that to develop my own opinion. This is a very dynamic scenario unfolding before our eyes. None of us have the whole picture yet. I hope I am taking the time to deliberate on something smaller in scope, and personally highly impactful in this scenario. Something closer to home. I'm looking at motivations and justifications, and a single one at that. There is something dangerous about the conflation of government actions with divine sanction. This becomes especially fraught when we conflate a military action with a scriptural mandate. When we combine faith with the state in a way to almost turn it into a...

I stopped writing for awhile. It was just too hard. There was a block between the pen and the brain. My fingers couldn't put together what I was feeling. And thoughts kept on racing by.  What was strange was it wasn't a lack of energy that kept me back. If anything it was too much. Which is probably strange to more than a few people.  There are times when my brain races. Ideas are a dime a dozen. They just keep coming. Normally I'd take the time to filter. Wait a second. But not at times like this. Every thought seems important. Worthy. I have to catch them all. Chasing until the point of decision paralysis. Every idea needs equal time I can't give.  So then the crash happens. And every idea looks like trash. Pure refuse. What's the point? Other than doubt.  I can't write in that pendulum swing. Not anything worthwhile.  I set a goal this year to write everyday. Develop the mental musculature, the discipline to push through moments. To increase productivity....

What are you looking for in a piece of art? Doesn't matter the medium. I'm thinking broad here and looking at all of the arts.  When you go seeking a painting, sculpture, song, photograph, novel, poem, movie, show, play, album; what are you seeking? Is it always the same? Does it change? When you think about art that spoke to you? Matters? Affected you? What was it? Were you chasing catharsis for something you were experiencing? Did you find something new? Was your mind expanded or affirmed, both? Did you look into the creator? Or live in the moment? Have you revisited it? Yes, no, often? Did you share it? Attempt to? Or hold it tight? Did you seek more like it? So many questions. Never ending I think. With as many or more answers possible. Outside of my human relationships (romantic, familial, and friendly), I can honestly say that what has enriched my life the most is the arts. There's no question. For me the mediums I find myself drawn to the most are music and written w...

The hand was easier to notice. I assumed it came first. Were the thoughts really that far behind. Or did they even come first. Sometimes changes to our cognition are just harder to notice.  A tremor. Weakness. Pain. Dropping things. Hand writing worsening. Those are all glaring spotlights, right? Let's contrast that.  A mild change in memory. Being stuck on a name. Taking longer to recall or recognize something or someone. That can be so much harder to notice.  Thoughts are fickle things. They often change. They rarely truly persist as a constant. There's too many variables. Cognitive and behavioral changes are difficult to quantify, especially deficits. I personally think it's especially so for a few reasons.  First. In life we change our minds. Simple enough. We have new experiences. We learn new information. Our thought patterns and hopefully our behavior changes accordingly. That's just part of the human experience.  Which leads to the second point. We just ...

Freud thought it was Sex. Nietzsche would talk about a will to power. Others love. Some money. What's the common thread. The meaning of life. I come down somewhere with Frankl. Meaning. Purpose.  For us men that's often compared to our profession. But is that everything?  My job gives me purpose. It's a great job. I feel fulfilled to help people, make a difference. Yet with all that, it's not the main source of meaning in my life. No. There's a lot more to life. Things that give more meaning. Make life worth living and experiencing. Most of all my wife. She's everything. The best of us. The best of me. Then I got four kids. They're the world. The fun. The chaos. The pride. I love them all for who they each are. And we got the cats and dog. They aren't easy always. But they're fuzzy. They love and they care. In their way.  So I exist with them. In a life full of music, literature, art, and nature. Fill it with laughter and good food. Make it a life wo...