Sometimes I sit and watch water drops form and fall in the sink. One at a time. A small bead gathers on the faucet's tip, its surface swarming with the water. Then it begins to fall, stretching into a strained neck that clips itself apart and separates into a falling droplet.

For those brief milliseconds, a world forms on the tense surface of the ( Read more... )

The way I see it, life hurts. Despite its joy, that's its heart. How one responds to that hurt defines the transition to adulthood. As a child, our innocence shelters us. Guardians structure our lives around their values, saving us the terrifying journey of plucking them from the whirlwind. We don't need to face questions of meaning or religion, of ( Read more... )

The conclusion to my final paper for Ancient Greek and Philosophy about how to discuss the nature of God:

Toward the end of his life, Aquinas said, "all that I have written seems like straw to me." Many sources record this, but it remains puzzling that one of the most voluminous theologians in history would suddenly recognize the limit of his words ( Read more... )

A despair hits me the moment my thoughts stir at the start of most days, a single question fretted with doubt and weariness: Why get up? My eyes remain closed. Sometimes I shift my weight. I feel powerless to cut the question short or dodge its insistence, as if it holds me to mattress.

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I look up and see the clouds clearing. They are patches of water droplets condensed on dust particles, formless and drifting until they dissolve into rain and vapor. The cold wind brushes past my face ( Read more... )

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Lately--a.k.a, the past few months--I've been on the defensive, withdrawing into my philosophy. My "real" life hasn't had much to comfort or thrill me, and real bone-deep comfort is what I need. So, like a turtle, I curled up in my first defense mechanism: philosophical detachment and intellectual rationalization. I've gotten pretty deep, while my ( Read more... )