Diary: Depression, considering depression.

August 21, 2017  -  Sunrise in Wyoming

I have a project I’m all excited about: “Donald Hoffman Playing Basketball in Zero-gravity,” a detailed critical examination of his astounding “Case Against Reality.”  

Unfortunately, one thing after another keeps real progress out of my reach.  Hours worth of free time is rare, I get snippets.  Soon as I think I’ve carved out some time, bam.  Within the past week another couple hugely time consuming family projects have been piled on.  Heck, I barely have the time to drop in at CFI these days.  

Don’t get me wrong, life is all about today, our day to days, and the people, our family, those lives and times matter most.   Still it requires an investment of time and I’m good with that.  It’s that little writer dude inside that has his occasional issues - but we make due.  Sturm und drang, dancing the sword’s edge of living, we do.

Last night, I finally responded to a pal at CFI Forum who brought up the despair that aware individuals are going through, as we’re watching our decades old worst fears unfolding with frightening rapidity.  I had some ten day mulling it over and waiting for a good time to sit down and focus on it. Last night the stars alined and I stayed up alone.  Me'n my MsMac laptop.

I’m sharing it here, with a little polishing, since I guess the dream of encountering some real dialogue remains, no matter how cynical I may seem. This is also part of laying out my case to my own satisfaction.

August 21, 2017  -  Wyoming

Yo ∏, hope you’re doing well. 

I’m in from my last walk with Maddy, dark skies, stars and all that.  I keep thinking back on your “clinically depressed” remark, which really caught me by surprise. Although, didn’t take long to figure out where it was coming from.  It’s made for lots of musing about the difference between “clinical” depressions and plain old justified human depression.

Seems to me clinical depression is for the candles in the wind, never knowing who to cling to when the rains come in, and so on.  The lost souls without a foundation under them.   

Scientism: On getting lost within the Mindscape.

It’s an odd sensation, periodically rediscovering how some things that I find self-evident, seem absolutely foreign (if not invisible) to most others.  When I embraced the term “Mindscape” a couple years back, I thought I did a good job of capturing a metaphor for those universes of thoughts that we possess just beyond our physical brain with its neurons, synapses and electro-chemical cascades.  The seat of ego, emotions, thought, reflection, god seeking, knowledge seeking, love seeking, success thirsting, the sense of self, our life’s spirit, our soul, whatever labels you want to tag onto it.  

The world flowing through our physical senses and then getting sorted through our genetic and environmental filters before being reflected against the metaphorical retina of our brain and infusing through our body.  The thing that thinks it’s telling our body what to do, when most the time it’s the other way around.  The thing that believes it’s in control of us, or out of control, as the case may be.  The thing that is us, but has yet to be found by scientist or philosopher.  

I’ve discovered that suggesting we should categorize it differently than the stuff of atoms and the laws of physics invites the wildest mental gymnastics intent on drawing the discussion away from the essence of acknowledging the ephemeral nature of our human mind, that thing that animates our bodies during our short dance across physical reality’s stage, or more specifically, Earth - and then disappears when we die.