Tribalism this far

We are tribal creatures that have organized in small groups for 99% of our species history. Is it a wonder tribalism is interfering in our nation building? From an evolutionary perspective, it's actually remarkable how far we've transitioned to a state of laws governing such large numbers of people across such vast swathes of continents. We've done well.

And it will continue to be difficult. It's "unnatural," so to say. But we can find solace, and hope, in the fact our species is capable of rising beyond our biology. We are the only life form we know of that can do so. We've come this far. Who says we can't keep going? I've always enjoyed seeing naysayers proved wrong.

Communication in Sedona

I admire the red dust covering my boots for a moment as I lace them up. Small signs of happiness permeate Sedona. My routine in the morning stays the same: coffee and breakfast, then load up the pack with water, sandwiches, and layers. Drive out to a new trailhead. Repeat the next day.

When out on a trail, I feel my soul restoring. The red dirt trail contrasts with the magnificent blue skies, and the surrounding diverse vegetation envelops a sense of serenity. Then you look up, or over yonder, and are met with a towering formulation of brilliant red rock. It's as if Earth speaks to you in Sedona: this is how I am, this is who we are together.

We evolved to roam the Earth. Our eyesight developed to scan horizons, our bipedal locomotion to march through varying landscapes. Our circulatory system is our superpower; forever sweating and never overheating. We are destined to explore and inhabit this most glorious of planets.

Sedona reminds me of this, and that's why I always return. We have been gifted a big beautiful amazing world, full of wonder and majesty. Live within it.

To Enjoy in Life

I often write about the big picture, the serious issues facing society and how "ordinary" people can see the world in order to impact it. It's all very serious stuff. 🙂 And while I do think about these things constantly, and am driven by the mission of TAV, I also partake in good old hedonistic fun. We're not monks after all. We're here to fulfill our purpose, yes, but also to live our life. My urging for a paradigm shift, my plea for any small action on the part of the individual, that has always come within the context of living a "normal" life. The world doesn't need martyrs; it needs considerate people.

And so we arrive at today, a very auspicious day for Bay Area locals. Today is Super Bowl Sunday, and the San Francisco 49ers are playing the Kansas City Chiefs to decide this season's NFL champion. I've been obsessing about this game most of the past two weeks. I'm nervous--the last 2 Super Bowls didn't go very well for the 49ers--but also confident, as I think they are the league's best team this year, and that they'll play well. And while their foe today will certainly be formidable, past performance does not guarantee future success, as they say. Diehard Niner fans like me have been waiting 29 years for another Super Bowl championship. There is a lot of anticipation and emotion pouring into today.

And I've wondered throughout the week if my heart has been misplaced. Should I care this much about a 3 hour football game? How much will this game really impact my life? (I've always argued that cost of living and property values are affected by a big market sports team's fate). If I want to change the world through TAV, is analyzing football really the best use of my time? It's been a sincere struggle. And I'm not writing this to defend myself, or justify my fandom in some grandiose argument. I simply think it's important to indulge in what we enjoy, barring it doesn't hurt anyone or isn't too unhealthy. Of course there is balance, "balance is key," as they also say in life. But I believe one can enjoy hobbies, passions, and good old debauchery that isn't directly tied to one's purpose. We are complex creatures, capable of multiple interests and multiple channels of which to put our energy.

We don't have to be saints. We have to treat others well, and understand our place on this planet, in this universe, and be kind and considerate. And laugh: there should always be lots of laughter. Go Niners, and happy Super Bowl Sunday.

One United Humanity

Every few months my wife and I sit down to talk travel. We love visiting new places, experiencing the Earth's incredible geography and wildlife, and immersing in humanity's diverse cultures.

There might be some confirmation bias, but in my life thus far I can affirm what my father told me when I was young: we all laugh and cry for the same reasons. It's become a fundamental belief of mine--we are more similar than we are different.

The differences between cultures can seem stark at first. There have been countless times in which I've visited a new place and have experienced culture shock; it's a real thing. Language, diet, norms and customs--they can be vastly different than what we're familiar with. But even on my shortest international trips, I've always begun to settle in toward the end. I start to better understand the different perspective of the locals. It's not hard to appreciate someone else's way of life. You just need to spend some time in it, and really not even that much.

The Earth's geography shapes how people live: Tibetans on the roof of the world live very differently than the people on the islands of the Caribbean. Many hot places have a slower pace to life. Mountainous regions at high elevations can create harsh living conditions and hardy people. It's sort of beautiful how our species has adapted across the varying landscapes on the surface of the planet.

But underneath these very real, yet superficial differences in religion, food, governance, geography, and sociology... what we call culture... we are truly the same. We do laugh and cry for the same reasons, no matter what our ancestry. Every culture on the planet gathers to eat on special occasions. We all want the same things: health, happiness, prosperity, and time. We are all capable of great darkness and great beauty. And we all share this one rock, inextricably connected. We are one, whether we realize it or not. It would serve all of us to awaken to this reality now.

Hope in 2024

Does 2024 feel normal yet? I feel February is usually the time we start remembering to write the correct year and the world starts the settling in process. I know it's begun for me in my personal life. But I've also been reflecting on the state of the world in 2024 and our development of global consciousness.

Major wars exist in the Yemen, Ukraine, and Palestinian-Israeli conflicts, among several other ongoing armed conflicts. The world can't agree or act on climate change. Many countries in the world are polarized politically and economically. Technological advancements' impacts on media have created a truth crisis. And it feels like we are (slowly or rapidly, depending on your perception and emotional state) losing our critical thinking skills. Oh, what to do?

There's no panacea, no one solution that will magically wave away these interconnected issues. We'll have to enact several policy changes, and as individuals commit to action on various principles, in order to effect change. But there is one prerequisite; one I've struggled to maintain at times through last year: hope. We can't talk about the problem without hope. We can't brainstorm solutions to our problems without hope. We can't develop global consciousness, or unite humanity, without hope. Inspiring change starts with holding that tiny little spark of inspiration within you: it begins with believing in, and maintaining, hope. By cultivating hope, we can change the world.

Contribution is Sacrifice

Reading about our founding fathers in The American Spirit by David McCullough, it's obvious how much they sacrificed for their country. They were willing to give their lives for the principles they believed in, to the cause of a just and free nation.

I write about contribution a lot, how we should all strive to contribute to the one planet we all call home, regardless of our possible differences. To contribute, at some level, means to sacrifice. To sacrifice one's comfort, convenience, or even one's wishes, so to add value to the greater good. Whatever one's passion, be it their country, the environment, or conservation, in order to truly add substantive value to that cause, they must sacrifice their time and energy in order to devote a part of themselves (or all of themselves) toward that endeavor.

I think it's important we recognize this, and remember it: results come from hard work, from dedication through contribution, from sacrifice. There are no free rides. Our lives, and the greater world, our corner of the universe, becomes what we make of it. McCullough makes a compelling argument that it's never been easy in America, and yet strong and committed individuals have bent the arc of history towards liberty and prosperity. We all know it's certainly not easy right now. Are we willing to contribute? Are we willing to sacrifice, to ensure we move toward a more perfect Union?

Weekly Paradigm Shift

It always amazes me how fickle time can be. Sometimes I look back on a week ago and I feel like a completely different person. Things that seemed important a week ago rarely are. And I think that shows how variable life can be. We may have completely disparate experiences from one week to another. Maybe we were sick last week, and healthy this week; our energy levels would likely be drastically different, and our sense of difficulty would probably change. Milestones, whether big work meetings or fun social events, usually appear different in the rearview mirror. Time creates distance in the 4th dimension, and while it doesn't guarantee perspective change, it enables opportunity for it.

I think this is why having a consistent, inclusive paradigm enables us to find harmony, with all others and our shared circumstance of being here together in this time and place. If we view our life within the greater context of occurring on Earth during the 21st century, our identity doesn't inherently exclude other people or other life. We can recognize our shared conditions: we are stuck here on this planet together, like it or not. An expanded paradigm unlocks this superpower of elevated global consciousness, achievable by literally anyone alive, yet doesn't harm or hinder our daily perspective. I would argue it only enhances your reflection as you look back to one week ago. You see how things have changed, but you place your experiences within the scope of being alive in a wondrous universe, full of miracle and mystery. How extraordinary our lot in life is--and we can all share in it.

Exciting Announcements

I’m excited to share that I was recently featured on a podcast called Step into Success with my friends Darion and Elaina. For their very first episode, they interviewed me to hear what TAV is all about.

I talk about the importance of journaling and written communication, as well as my photography, among other things.

You can watch this podcast on YouTube, or check out a portion of it here:

I had a lot of fun talking to Darion and Elaina!

It’s also available on the following well-known platforms:

• Spotify

• Deeper

• Samsung podcast

• Podcast Index

• Apple (TBA)

• Amazon (TBA)

• Iheart

• Google podcast

Other updates:

There’s a new About page you can check out, which explains my ethos around TAV and what we’re trying to accomplish.

And finally, merch! There are now some t-shirts available for purchase in the store, and many more will be added soon. The goal here is to start a movement—every t-shirt will cost $50, including tax and shipping. (Think Macklemore: “I’m like, ‘Yo, that’s $50 for a t-shirt’”).

Half of the listed price will always go to charity. So when you buy a t-shirt (showcasing a positive message), you’re also supporting important causes to better our world. Look out for more products soon, and happy shopping!

Thank you for your support.

Air for Astronauts

I was looking back at past ideas for blog posts and came across these two:

• We get too caught up in our human bubble. We are part of a larger ecosystem, the Earth, and our focus and awareness needs to expand to that in order to truly change the world and solve our problems

• We are the only known planet with oxygen that can support us. There may be raw materials on Mars or other planets but we’re not there yet. We need to take care of this planet

I think I wrote both these ideas down around the time I watched the first few episodes of One Strange Rock, a 2018 National Geographic miniseries hosted by Will Smith. It features interviews with several different NASA astronauts, who describe their experiences aboard the International Space Station and on spacewalks. Their expression of Earth's beauty deeply moved me. I've been incredibly fortunate to travel across the world, but I've never left it like they have. Viewing the Earth from space is supposed to completely change your worldview and permanently shift your paradigm of life. There have been 656 people who have reached space in the history of our species. You can find anecdotes online of their experiences, but they all seem to align on one thing: the Earth is a precious entity floating in the void of space, and there are no distinctions between 'parts' of it from above. It is all one. It is a harbor for all known life, including humanity. And as far as we know, it is the only possible harbor that exists.

One of the astronauts talked about that in the NatGeo documentary. He reminisced about a spacewalk, and how he had to let go of the ISS (while tied to it with a rope), and how exhilarating it was--he was relinquishing all control, and had to trust in the rope attached to the space station. It was the most alone and isolated he had ever felt. And he talked about how clear it is up in space that there is no oxygen. In fact, there is no oxygen anywhere in the universe--as far as we know--except one place: Earth. Our planet is the only one that contains the necessary environment for us to survive. It's surreal when you actually think about it. And how do we take care of this one precious planet we inhabit?

It really does get down to the hard science of it all: the physics, the chemistry, the biology of what we are and where we exist in the void. As Carl Sagan poetically said in his pale blue dot reflections, every human that has ever existed, regardless of status or birth year, has lived out their existence on this blue planet. We all share that, as does every other single living thing we know of. From this vantage point, it's clear it's time to end our squabbles. That what truly matters is our shared experience of this miracle that is life. And that we are a part of this miracle, with billions of other organisms, on this utterly unique planet; we are not thee miracle. If we recognize that, and raise our global consciousness, we can unite, and inspire each other. Understanding we share this one big beautiful amazing world, we can start to change it.

You are what you think. Can we collectively realize that?

"You are what you eat" is a commonly known phrase. I'd argue just as important, in today's world, is the concept, "You are what you think about." I've written about consumption versus production many times before, but my recent circumstances spurred me to revisit it once again.

If you're consuming content all the time, you're thinking about what the creators of that content are thinking. This pertains to the news, podcasts, reading online, etc.--regardless of medium, consumption is consumption. There are times when I have either listened to podcasts or read online for the majority of my waking hours, meaning I subjected myself to the whims of others. My consciousness on those days was directed, not by me, but by people I've never met. I didn't have any agency; my actual brain's functionality was imposed upon by strangers. It's kind of wild to think about it in this way.

This past week was my first week back to work after being in the Caribbean, an experience I previously wrote about. Every day this week, I didn't consume anything before lunch time--and I didn't even think about it, it wasn't an effort--it was completely unconscious. And I think it's because the Caribbean helped me recapture my independence, because I only listened to music. I didn't consume a single podcast or read online at all. Someone told me about the plane crash in Japan and I had no idea. I didn't even know whether my beloved 49ers beat the Commanders--in fact I didn't even know when the game was. This wasn't some sort of impressive feat--I was completely absorbed in the magic of the Virgin Islands, and being there was so immersive that it pulled me away from my consumption habits. Returning home and to the office, I simply carried on with what I was doing in the Caribbean; my baseline had changed. And this just goes to show how malleable our minds our, how quickly we can shift our operating system.

This can make life challenging for sure. We can continue on a harmful path simply because momentum has built up. But it also makes us powerful. It shows we can change our perspective, shift our paradigm in life, literally rewire the circuitry of our brains. I think it's incredibly important to be mindful of one's consumption habits, because in a zero-sum game for our attention and focus, any consumption inherently takes away from our production, from our ability to contribute. And that is where collectively, through elevating our global consciousness, we can change the world: through our individual contributions, through our will and agency to make the universe a better place. This can unite humanity and further inspire change. It all stems from such a simple concept. You are what you think.

The Year in Photos

I think I've written before about the benefits of revisiting photos. I did just that today, looking back on the photos from this past year. It was emotional, seeing all those I love, reliving all the fun happy times of 2023. Because photography captures a moment and feeling in time, it can transport you somewhere else. I felt myself leave the room, enraptured. It's become a New Year's tradition for me, to look back on the year in photos. Just one more way to reflect on my fortune, to be here in this big beautiful amazing world, in this moment of time, with my tribe and all those I love.

I would posit everyone likely sees the same thing in their photos: love. And if we could all understand we each see the same thing, it might lower our walls and raise our consciousness. We are more similar than we are different, and we share this incredible experience in this spot of the universe, right now in this time, together. Rejoice in our photos and in our collective fate of being together with an opportunity to emanate love.

Lessons and Love from the Caribbean

So it started with the song "Say Hey (I Love You)" by Michael Franti & Spearhead, Cherine Tanya Anderson. That song was on the "Caribbean Beach Party" playlist I found on Spotify during our Virgin Islands trip. It's a phenomenal playlist--we listened to it for the entire 9 days of our trip. I had heard the song before, but it resonated with me deeply all week, while on the beach, in the car, on the ferry. The song is about love between 2 people while admiring the beauty of life. Consider the lines:

"It seems like everywhere I go, the more I see, the less I know"

"But I know one thing, that I love you"

The song brought intense emotions about my beautiful wife, the goddess I met across these stars, who has become an inextricable part of my life. But it also made me think about love in general. There's a part in the song that repeats "I love you" 12 times in a row, and it captured my heart, because it reinforced what we all know deep down upon birth: that life is about love. That our purpose in this universe is love.

Somehow, a few days after listening to that song, I was admiring the view of several beautiful islands, and I thought about a quote I came across from back in my Reddit days. I think it was from one of those typical Ask Reddit threads, "what's the best advice you've ever received, or a quote you've heard that still deeply resonates with you?" I remembered reading someone's answer (I was always only ever a lurker), "if the whole world acted the way you do, what would the world be like?" It must have resonated with me upon reading, because I came upon it again in the hills of Jost Van Dyke, reflecting on my own attitude and behavior. If we want to enjoy a considerate, peaceful journey in life, then we have to do our part.

Through that reggae playlist, and the songs about love, I felt I was embodying a wanderer full of love for the world and anyone I ran across. I felt confident, and proud, that in some small way I was contributing through a personality of politeness and friendliness with all my interactions, both with locals and other tourists. The people of the Caribbean are beautiful, and I'll treasure the trip forever.

And then today, on my first run since Christmas Eve, I finished the last 20 minutes of episode #2706 of the Joe Rogan Experience podcast, featuring a discussion about the implications of AI with Aza Raskin and Tristan Harris. It's a fantastic episode that I highly recommend to anyone intrigued by how our world may change with the advent of artificial general intelligence. Aza Raskin, towards the end of the episode, explains his disapproval with the common question, 'are you an optimist or a pessimist?' He posits that both paradigms are flawed because they seek their own confirmation bias, no matter positive or negative, and thus enable one to absolve themselves of responsibility or agency.

I've felt the malaise in the world the past few months, even few years. I've succumbed to helplessness or indifference at times. But hearing Raskin's words jolted me back to my old conviction of hope, that we can inspire change--agency and responsibility--in others, that we can change the world.

I finished the episode before I finished my run. So I switched back to the Caribbean Beach Party playlist for the last few minutes. The first song that played was "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole. I relished my good fortune. And I came across the poignant line, "I hear babies cry and I watch them grow, they'll learn much more than we'll know. And I think to myself, what a wonderful world."

What a beautiful thought, that our children will be better than us, will accomplish more than us, live longer than us, enjoy a better life than us. Because it's not about us, it's about love. It's about developing a deep conviction in our agency and our responsibility to contribute to the universe. To change the world... to change it for those after us, to plant trees of which we will never enjoy their shade.

And then "Say Hey (I Love You)" followed. I couldn't believe it, and nearly started crying on my run. It had come full circle--all these epiphanies and reflections and deep feelings returned back to where they originated last week--with a song about love. A love song not 'for the world,' but 'a song about a boy and a girl.'

I think it's all interconnected. We find those we love, those star crossed people we 'bump into in the middle of the road' and we make a beautiful life full of love with them. And that in turn provides us the context to envision a better world, the conviction to change the world and contribute to the universe with our own agency and responsibility, together. That's exactly what I'm going to do, and I hope you do too. I'll be goin' now, but I'll be back home around the way.

Seeing the Rainbow

It's incredible how quickly and strongly your deepest desires change when you become sick. When sick, all we absolutely want is to be healthy--we'd give anything to be healthy. Previous higher aspirations disappear or fade deeply into the background.

I've felt that this week, and feel the timeliness of it to be serendipitous. With Christmas fast approaching, a time to be thankful and rejoice in gift of family and friends; and New Year's, when everyone reflects on their year and how to be even better for the upcoming one; being sick this week has spurred reconsideration of the big picture.

This consideration is connected to my recent musings around living slow and doing less. I haven't been able to do much this week, either around the house or outside it, and that's meant I've done less, and lived slowly. It felt deadening at first. But as I sat with it, I realized how I had become caught up in consumption again, how I was no longer mindful while eating or completing daily tasks, how quick-tempered and impatient and simply limited I had become.

There are ebbs and flows in life. We feel motivation come and go, and our habits shift over time. But basic discipline enables us to build, slowly, even 1% more at a time, each day. Maintaining discipline can be difficult, and I've certainly lost it recently in many ways. Being sick has granted me access to the larger perspective that discipline enables me to be the best I can, which translates into less consumption and more production, more contribution, for the world.

I believe we're all capable of contributing to the betterment of the universe in our own unique way. That Confucius was right: we must cultivate some discipline, and the best of ourselves, before we can outwardly contribute to the world. Sickness can potentially act as a purge of our decaying listlessness and routine. It's been the case for me this week, and I feel more invigorated than ever to be the best human possible. So that I can, in some small way, help contribute to changing the world. Sometimes it just requires a little rain to see the rainbow.

Maintaining Hope

While talking to a coworker recently I compared the current state of the world to the first law of thermodynamics: in physics, when you heat up a closed system, the molecules bounce around faster (because energy can't be created or destroyed, it can only transfer to a different form). It just seems as the Earth warms with climate change, and our tempers flare by "the other side" on social media, our collective energy speeds up. It feels like large groups of the population are incensed with each other, about Gaza-Israel, about Ukraine-Russia, about the economy, about Covid. This is only my interpretation of current events of course. But negativity seems to abound around the world.

It's understandable, as we're more connected now than ever before, and are thus more easily made aware of hardships or atrocities elsewhere on the planet. Large corporations feed us this negativity, because it results in more clicks, more engagement, and thus more profit.

But I reject the notion that all is lost. That our civilization, our species, and our planet are in decline. Even if some or all of that were true, wallowing has never yielded change. We are an imperfect species within a flawed civilization. Earth has significant problems. But we are also a powerful species, a species I believe to be inherently good, not evil. We've built up a civilization that has empowered billions. And our planet is the most wondrous known thing in the universe, capable of weathering significant storms. We can work towards a collective global consciousness, a united species, one that remains inspired to effect change. I vehemently believe, still to this day, that we can change the world.

Going Outside

I've been pondering how often we spend time outside, especially in the context of my own life. I listened to a podcast that talked about grounding, something I was never sure was scientifically valid, and I did some further reading. The concept of grounding is definitely under-researched, but here's the gist: grounding electrically resets the body and restores our pH balance, potentially helping to reduce inflammation and autoimmune response and/or stimulating healthy cellular function. Perhaps it's placebo, but I've felt better after walking barefoot around the grassy area outside my front door consistently this week.

The fact remains: we evolved to be outside. Our ancestors, born naked in caves and thrust into the world with no tools, had to scavenge for any food or shelter. It was a harsh existence. Those whose biology suited survival in the elements passed their genes onward. Thus slowly over time our biology adapted to make use of energy from the sun, chemical compounds in the Earth, prevalent bacteria, and so on.

Compare this to the modern person in 2023. How many minutes a day do we spend outside? Five? Accumulated through the brief moments we spend between our box house, box car, box work or box school, and any other enclosed spaces we visit? Even then, we're wearing shoes, usually pounding hard surfaces such as concrete, asphalt, or stone.  How often do we walk barefoot on the Earth? It wasn't until I started walking barefoot this week that I realized it had been weeks, if not months, since I last made direct contact with the Earth.

I'm starting to think about what I want 2024 to look like for me. Reflecting on how I spend my time, I'm resolved next year will feature more moments in nature. I'm going to prioritize touching the Earth as often as I can. The Earth is our birthplace, our nurturing ground, where we learn to run and play and love and live, and our final resting place. It's part of what makes us human. We are not simply living on the surface of the Earth, we are a part of it.

Across the World Friends

I have a recurring todo on my Things app to "Reach out to Across the World friends." It's set to pop up every 2 weeks. Its purpose? Serve as a reminder to keep my friendships kindled. I've been lucky to meet some amazing people in my life, many who live in different countries. Perks of living in the 21st century--we can not only stay in contact but remain friends with people across the globe. And all it takes is a short message or a quick call to connect.

In talking to people living in a completely different environment, we can maintain exposure to unique perspectives that would normally be impossible without living those experiences firsthand. Even talking to an American living in another state can widen our point of view or change our attitude. Modern technology makes possible something simple yet profound.

We might not be having reality-defying conversations with people in other locations in the Metaverse yet, as Lex Fridman and Mark Zuckerberg recently did. I'm sure the ramifications of the proliferation of such technology will bring even more change. But it's cool to know that right now, virtually anyone can connect with another person across the world in real time. And I believe it's our connection to each other, and to our collective humanity, that will truly change the world. To making across the world friends.

Phones Can Save the World

I remember when I bought my first iPhone. It was in Beijing in late 2012. I spent hours reading up and watching videos about the older iPhone 4s and the newly released iPhone 5. My coworker eventually groaned, "just get the newer one, it will last longer." I was so naive throughout that first smartphone purchase. Thing is, that first iPhone altered my behavior.

Before Beijing, I lived in Cape Town, my roommate and I sharing a small house with no internet, no TV, and far outside the city center. Those 4 months were probably the most productive of my adult life post school: I read dozens of books, established my life philosophy and values over many weeks (and got my first tattoo to commemorate it upon leaving the country), and wrote pages and pages of material. With no overt distractions, I deeply introspected and got shit done. Upon moving to Beijing, when I still had my brick Nokia, I barely used my cellphone and rarely had it on my person. I was fully immersed in the world around me whenever out in public, with nothing to distract me during "dull moments." I used to carry around a little notebook, jotting down thoughts or observations, often while riding the subway. I would sketch things as well, filling up notebook after notebook. My thoughts were calm and collected, and I felt strong intention in my life. Then the iPhone arrived (I accepted my coworker's advice and got the iPhone 5. Thanks Amybabe). I remember becoming addicted to a game on it, and playing that game nightly for months. I began to read books less, and surf the web more. Video calling with friends or family back home changed; originally it was a big deal to set up a time and date and confirm which program (usually Skype) we would connect with, which necessitated using the computer. Even the preliminary versions of Facetime and iMessage made it ubiquitous for such communication. My phone replaced my notebook while riding the subway lines of Bejing. Maybe not in an obvious way, but my life, my thinking, was different.

Fast forward ten years later, and I think about the deeply engrained habits revolving around my phone. I check it immediately upon waking and just before bed. I whip it out the moment I'm bored. It's literally within arm's reach 99% of the time, awake or not. I've tried to combat such listless attachment to it over the years. I've named it "This is a Tool" in an attempt to remind me of its true purpose. I've experimented with having it in the other room, or not using it until a certain time. I've only upgraded twice in ten years. But the powers that be--trillion-dollar tech behemoths employing teams of the world's best engineers to capture your attention--have proved too strong. I always revert back to an undesirable behavior, usually in moments of weakness when I'm tired or hungover.

My wife teaches kindergarten, and we frequently discuss the apparent differences the children display now. Over the past few years, it's evident they struggle with emotional regulation, doing things they don't want to do, handling consequences, etc. Of course, they're five and six years old. They're learning all of those things. Hell, I'm still learning them at 35. But the behavioral patterns now are clearly different than a few years ago. The effects of the pandemic, namely locking children up for 2 years, almost certainly figures to be the main culprit, and is a variable we can't fully understand because it was so unique. However, any child born within the past decade has grown up using mobile devices since birth (true even at my wife's low-income school). I've witnessed infants, literal infants, swipe and pinch on iPad screens. Our children are raised in an electronic world, constantly provided dopamine through the prevalent use of our increasingly captivating devices. Their brains are literally forming differently.

And I wonder how common this is across the entire planet. Or rather, how common it is for people to not be addicted to their phone. Smartphones have been accessible to 68% of the world's population for 7 years now. Our collective psychology is not only hijacked by these machines, but our neurochemistry is changing. I don't know how to approach this conundrum, but what if solving this one problem lead to many other answers? What if it really is as simple as us unplugging? Think about it: there would be less Twitter warfare, because people would use social media less because they'd be on their phones less. Perhaps we could regain our humanity by having more social interactions face to face, without distraction, because we would not be communicating solely by phone. Maybe we would collectively become more aware, more compassionate, simply by determining how to leverage the power of our technology while limiting its detrimental effects. Could the predicament of raising our global consciousness, counterintuitively, be achieved by using this technology less?

Canister Conflict

­­­News about the conflict in the Gaza Strip and Israel has been harrowing. With so much vitriol between online spectators, it’s hard to know what to say or how to react. I wonder:

— What does my ambivalence say about me? What does it say about society?

— How many people have been killed in this conflict compared to those killed in the Ukraine?

— How many people are still dying in the Yemen humanitarian crises?

— Does the United States House Speakership being vacated still matter? (Wasn’t this our most recent alarm bell?)

And I think: we have the technological capability to know what’s happening all around the world, but not the biology. We only have a finite amount of attention. We haven’t raised enough global consciousness to process what happens around the world without reverting to tribalism.

It seems we are constantly bombarded with high-intensity flares of emotional canisters of information. They land at our feet and spew an engulfing, manic cloud that obscures our vision and our reasoning. The particles may dissipate for a while, only to be replaced by more canisters from different events around the world. And so we subsist in a continual fog. We react to the canisters hurled toward us instead of surveying the landscape and finding a better living environment.

I do not know the history of the region nor understand the motivations of any of the groups of people that live there. But I do condemn organized violence, especially against civilians.

I pray for true lasting peace, and for us to find a way, as one species, to raise our global consciousness.  Only then will we be able to unite humanity and inspire change.

Particle Soup

I've been contemplating the universe as a vast soup of particles of various compositions. Smell is the simplest way to conceive of this. Smell = molecules from the environment enter our nasal cavity and interact with our olfactory receptors. We literally perceive the environment by touching other free floating particles. It’s but one example of our experience with this particle soup.

The particle soup we call the universe is not a metaphor, it is the physical makeup of reality as we know it. And while the biological evolution of our intelligence might not have optimized for understanding the universe at the smallest level of physics, we are capable of understanding it. On the shoulders of giants, we have developed tools and technology to observe the universe at the most basic level—think Large Hadron Collider, microscopes and telescopes, etc. It's possible for a layperson to review the data, learn the math proving our reality, and even observe it at the basic level firsthand.

Particle exchange through three different organisms

So the concept of particle soup is not simply a paradigm to adopt. It's how our universe exists. We don't yet understand the full physics of how particles of matter interact. And we're even further from comprehending the organic chemistry, the biological implications of how the particles of life work. But today, right now, we are far enough out on the precipice that we can reach forward and conceptualize this mosaic of particles and the symphony their interaction creates. Consider playing a sport with another person. When playing a game of basketball, two people are often touching or up against each other, their molecules colliding. Their sweat rubs against each other. The environment of the gym acts as a somewhat contained system; the materials of the floor and the baskets and the ball and peoples' sneakers are all mixing together. During a simple five on five pickup game, a dynamic interaction of particles occurs between both organic and inorganic materials. Our bodies react to all this. Not only are players weaving through the court within the game, they are weaving through, and exchanging molecules with, the liquid fabric of the universe within the gym. We are simply a collection of particles navigating among other groups.

If we accept the universe is a soup of particles, what does it mean? It enables us to foster a more holistic approach to our life experiences and generate empathy for others. We are part of the universe, and a part of our local environments: the Earth, the continent we reside on, the local city, town or village we inhabit. We truly share these environments with all others who live there, because we exchange particles with them and the environment itself. Anything we emanate into our environment affects all within it. Which means we make our reality together. What kind of universe will we live in?

Live Slow, Do Less

On July 27th I wrote the following in my journal: "live slow, do less. Less stimulus, slow eating." Perhaps utterly lacking context to anyone else, but it clicked for me when I revisited the entry today.

I can feel more space between the ears when I reduce my content consumption. There have been many mornings (and even days) in the past few months in which I fill much of my waking moments with phone reading or podcast listening. When that happens, I've realized my thoughts are primarily reactions to things produced by others. In this way I have little opportunity for original thought, because my focus and attention are directed towards someone else's.

It's even more ethereal than production vs. consumption. There's something psychological, something universe-warping around slowness, stillness, and less. When I eat less food and eat it slower, my meals seem longer, more enjoyable, full of experience. When I'm "bored" for a stint during the day because I'm not consuming anything, I'm fascinated by the minute nuances of life on this planet. Mundane facets of life become interesting.

And I'm motivated to produce something: to create, to write, to contribute. In living slowly, I seem to live more. My behavior changes from consuming to creating. Thus life feels more meaningful, because I experience fulfillment in what I produce. When I live slowly and do less, I think less about things that don't matter and instead ponder things that truly do. Living slowly and doing less, paradoxically, isn't really doing either.