Faster than the speed of light I knew instinctively what it meant.
And I was embarrassed by the implication.
Even before I had time to process the spin files and search for an app that might soften its harsh reality, I stood before the judge and jury guilty as charged.
In the past I used to cringe with remorse, these days the time between stimulus and response can be counted in seconds instead of with a calendar.
Because there is a more nuanced flow? Because I forgive easier? Because I know that nobody really cares? Because I understand the process clearer? Or because I appreciate the importance of a joyful participation with the sorrows of life?
The correct answer is (as most always) all of the above.
It is much like the difference between exercise and training.
The former being a good thing, necessary and healthful. The latter taking the positive and fine tuning it with focus and purpose.
Focus with purpose.
Sure I want to be healthy and happy. But I also what to compete and excel. I want to challenge myself. That is what drives me more than a contented smile and a good night's sleep. My motivation is to keep the mojo in play as long as I am able.
And sometimes that means a growl and a sleepless night after the bumps and bruises on the trail of the buffalo.
I am greedy. I want both. I want it all.
AND I WANT IT RIGHT NOW.
With that as preface, here is the new one: Something called the Illusion of explanatory depth.
There exists the possibility that, according to this hypothesis, I may not be digging deep enough.
Or, as Richard Bach so eloquently ended his wonderfully philosophical tome Illusions with, "Everything above may be wrong."
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