Overwhelmed by the New

This is a short report.

In case you have been wondering, there are more new things in the world today than there were yesterday. I think the rate of new things per day is increasing, but I can no longer detect the edges of anything, so I can’t be sure through direct, empirical observation.

I have a lot of work to do, and although I love that work, I can’t help but feel that I would be of greater value still to everybody and everything if I were to just go back to school for four-or-more years, to learn all the things I want to, and think that I might need to.

Except, the world would have moved on anyway while I was in class. The busses have left the station: I will not be a master 3D modeller / animator in my lifetime. I will not be sagely informed about machine learning and tensors and such (whatever a Tensor is). I will never be an accomplished musician.

I will never be an expert at anything.

This is going to have to be ok. There’s something perfectly double-edged about having so much to choose from in Life, that one can never expect to have it all (or even know what it all means). This is one of countless aspects of living in a full-spectrum environment that we are simply here to experience and accept.

Humility and pragmatism probably play a part in surviving the modern world, but I need to do some more research on that before making any rash decisions about being more humble, or pragmatic.

I’m late for something.

To Continue…

HRe: Podcast Ep 2

I found some files on a usb stick, which I found among some clutter, which was located in a room.

Among the files were some of the audio variety. These involve a man talking to himself in a truck.

Bad Sound From a Borrowed Truck
Ep 02 : Faith, Serendipity, Atheism, and Ikigai

Ikigai: https://medium.com/thrive-global/ikigai-the-japanese-secret-to-a-long-and-happy-life-might-just-help-you-live-a-more-fulfilling-9871d01992b7

Title music:
Fuzzball Parade by Kevin MacLeod
Link: https://incompetech.filmmusic.io/song/5044-fuzzball-parade
License: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Re: Knowing Things

I have come to realize that (in my profession <SoftwareMonkey>), perhaps as in life, I rarely if ever Know any given Thing; I mostly just try and guess Things in real-time.

Oftentimes, this involves rolling up what I think that I once thought that I knew, and layering what I’m observing and feeling atop it all (and informed by intention, either conscious or some-sort-of-Otherwise), and making a decision about what I feel that I think that I now possibly know. Google is sometimes consulted – as are other Humans, on occasion.

This Never-Really-Knowing has something to do with Faith – though in what way, I can’t yet quite say.

I know this: I have Great Faith. Sometimes. I forget now and then, but it tends to return.

Teach Each Other; Help Each Other – we’re here to do these Things. This I most surely Know, through Faith in my God – who is also Your God. Our God. Through Whatever Names we call Them. We are here to learn, individually, and as a collective. To achieve some potential that we keep forgetting that we have.

I owe All of my Things to Every Body, while I’m here. I feel that I know this too. What is it that I faithfully owe to you?

Incremental Progress: Give yourSelf credit – for it’s your credit that’s due.

Re: Waiting for Cats

At times I grow weary of wondering if our cat is going to come home this time.

Every time, I wonder that, about our fluffy, precious, absent cat.

I could be canvassing the neighbourhood each and every time
I have this feeling or that –
about the chances we might once again regain our cat…

But I won’t.

This is always a waiting game –
and for me, a chance to explore what Faith might be.


Dear BB,

I wrote this poem because Jenkins hasn’t come home in two days and Mallory tells me I should be channel my worrying into some kind of artwork. So I wrote a poem, and now it’s yours. It has some rhymes in it but not in all the places you’d want them, so I guess it counts. I do feel a little better.

Jenkins is probably still dead this time, though.

How is Roy? I hope his carrots come in this year.

Did I leave my scissors on your porch?

Bent