I have a lot of opinions. They change of course over time. Sometimes they change due to conversations. Sometimes they change by experiences. Sometimes they change inside me and I am not really sure why they change at all. I just know they change, and that’s part of growing, and that’s what I think wisdom feels like when you suspect you’ve gained some.
I’ve never really attempted to write about love. I’ve written songs, letters to others, or tend to find myself in conversations where I express these ever changing opinions about it, but every time I want to sit down and attempt to capture any of my thoughts on the matter, I come up with some distraction to delay the inevitable another few months (I started this post three years before publishing it so months is a bit of a misnomer). Yet to be honest I think about people, and connections, and relationships, and that allusive four letter word a lot. I’m fascinated with the mystery of it all, and I think I’m in good company based on thousands of years of art, music, movies, books, and so on. Continue reading “Selfless Love and Taxes”
Strewn from shore to shore, to lands uncharted in the sky, human beings have withstood thousands of years, in which we have seen plagues, momentous natural disasters, and entire empires fall. We have glimpsed into the mind of God through science and mathematics, and have single handedly affected natures deepest cores. We have produced music and art so powerful to the mind we cannot help but to shed a tear. Our emotions and thoughts are like two passion filled dancers moving majestically through time, trading secrets but always maintaining the dance. Like a cub who wanders too far from its den we slowly drift away from the rest of nature. Upon theory after theory we try in vain to discover our origins, our reason for living, and our destination when we die. We have grown so accustomed to the idea that we are people and not animals that we base entire religions on our existence. The fate of the world and the universe lies in our perceived hands. We are human beings.
Continue reading “Being Human”
You think too much. Don’t over think it. You analyze everything.
I can say that I have heard these words and variations of them my entire life. But what does it mean to really be an over thinker and why are people over thinkers?
From as early as I can remember I have been thinking too much about everything. Whether it be a business meeting, a standardized test, or a chance encounter with the opposite sex, my mind has analyzed and reanalyzed every small observation and detail that I was able to ascertain. Not only during such instances, but long after into the night, and the next day. The analysis part isn’t so bad compared to the outcome scenarios and judgement related to over thinking. It is not good enough to analyze every scenario inside and out. You must then judge each of the scenarios and critique every minute detail. Simply explained this generally falls into the category of “You cant judge me as bad as I can judge myself” or “You are your own worst enemy.”
Continue reading “Confessions of an Over Thinker”
There is something incredibly cool about the arts. For those that know me you are aware that I am analytical sometimes to the point of annoying (and for those of you that just said “sometimes” again in your head we’re no longer friends).
I want to preface this by saying I in no way think I am hot to trot related to the arts. I don’t think I can relate to Beethoven or Dali, nor do I think most people on the planet since the beginning of time can. What I am asserting is in everyone there is the ability to make art. Whether you hum in the shower, tap your feet while sitting, or doodle on a napkin, you are creating.
For some those creations go on to affect others, but in the beginning, at its most core, those creations affect those making them. Raise that foot tapping to a more complex beat, or start to shadow that doodle a little, and suddenly something is happening. I am going to try my best to explain this phenomenon, but I have to say it will be difficult. Its like explaining love. You tend to dance around the outside of it, but never really get to the heart of it, although every poet has tried.
Continue reading “The Mystery of the Arts”