Reflections on Life and Infinity: A Journey Through Existence

Welcome to Thoughts

A Deep Realization

5/1/26

Today, I was driving home after planting some flowers at Bella's house. As I cruised along, I stumbled into a profound realization. Life, I thought, is a physical continuation and expansion of what came before. Our lives leave behind tangible proof of our existence. Imagine this: when we can see more clearly into the future, our souls will perceive the residue of our past lives—like marks on a page or strokes of oil paint on a canvas.

On the freeway, I felt life all around me and more than that I could see it. I saw life residue as puffs of clouds, constantly adding and expanding. There was no fear. I was enveloped by life, 360 degrees of it, in all sorts of shapes. My life, Bella's life—these weren't just mental events or fleeting memories. No, the incidents of our lives had substance. They were tangible and visible, not subject to erasure but only to change and evolution. Everything is always growing and shifting. Colors change, things get bigger, fuzzy or solid. Everything rubs off on everything else, and all things mold together.

I will die, but it won’t be sad for me. I’ll watch myself grow and change, make new colors, and explore new places. I’ve always been here—myself, Scott—watching and learning. Outside, the skies and winds change without fear or permission. I am MYSELF. I am ALIVE. Nothing is as complicated as we make it out to be. What we’ve built with effort and fear was never really there. Things constructed from fear can’t occupy space or create boundaries.

The End of the Rat Race

5/20/26

I’m preparing to retire soon. Can you believe it? Since tenth grade, I’ve been caught up in what we call the rat race. Competing for top grades to get into college, then more grades for grad school, all to land a good law job. Forty years in this relentless cycle!

Forty years! That’s a long time, right? It’s been filled with meaningful work, connecting with great people and ideas. But it’s also been a mix of dedication, loyalty, and, let’s be honest, mindless addiction to the Puritan American dream: a home, a 30-year mortgage, a car, and a few vacations.

Some of my achievements were fueled by fear and anxiety, while others were driven by love, passion, and a thirst for truth even (decades ago, no longer do I believe in truth). I wanted to provide for my family, to feed and shelter them. Much of my school and work has been a pleasure—things I’d do for free, things I’d want to do over and over again for infinity.

Now, I lay down those forty years. They feel as light as a feather, floating away without a care. I thought about calling my parents to share my news. “Hi Dad, I’m retiring!” Surely they’d be proud, right? But they’re not here anymore. After all this time, I’m leaving the rat race. Three years battling lung cancer left me disabled, but I was smart enough to buy long-term disability insurance. So, there’s a way out.

I feel proud—not of any one test or grade, but of surviving this long. I’m alive, part of life, part of nature. I’m like a tree or a rock or a bird.

The Email Problem

Some day, in 200 or 500 years, someone will write a book about how destructive email was to humanity. Seriously! To me, email is the worst human invention—worse than weapons, worse than pornography, worse than illicit drugs. It has changed the world so profoundly that we can’t even describe the impact.

Email is never-ending and addictive. It consumes all time and space in this infinite universe. We really need to get rid of it!

When I wake up in the morning, now that I'm retired, I first feel anxiety -- time to check my email at work my mind tells me. Then I remember quickly that I am retired, and I am not required any longer to check my work email. Suddenly a sense of peace that email is over, and then a sense of hope for the day -- what do I want to do today, who do I want to spend time with, what might I want to learn?

Just as quickly I see my cellphone sitting on my nightstand. A burst of anxiety that I need to check my texts and check my email on my phone to see what is waiting for me at work. But then just as fast a realization that yes indeed I am retired, and I no longer need to check my phone for work-related tasks.

For some reason my mind has classified "email" and "phone" as two separate forms of torture, even though the phone per se is not torture, it's email on the phone that is torture. Whereas I associate the negativity of email mostly with my laptop, I associate a separate negativity with my cellphone for also bringing me email separate from my laptop (even though we are talking about the same emails).

I believe email is destructive to the human brain as it conditions us to think in increments of a few minutes when we anticipate receiving a response to an email within a few minutes, or when we expect ourselves to respond to an email we just received, within a few minutes. At times we may be conditioned to think in increments of "overnight" meaning that we expect people to respond to our emails the next day or we expect ourselves to respond to emails received today, tomorrow,

In addition to timing, we have learned how to read and write in email format. I'm not a linguist so I'll let someone else make these arguments. I do not believe email is a natural form of thinking, speaking, or of expressing oneself. However it has become one of the dominant ways of communication between humans.

When I think of the concept of email, the nasty acidic juices in my stomach turn and my stomach groans. Damage has been done by email, severe damage. I can't do anything about it but go forward without it and hope for healing.

The Infinite Garbage Can

5/22/26

Now, let’s imagine infinity. Picture an infinite garbage can, somehow infinite in size, nestled within a larger infinity. This garbage can divides infinity itself. It’s made of metal, round or conical, standing there in the endless, airless black of the universe.

We sit on the edge of this infinite garbage can, our legs dangling down. After all this time, we have a choice. We can let ourselves fall into the garbage can, leading to infinite falling and, well, death. Or, we can let ourselves fall away from the garbage can into infinite space, which also leads to infinite floating and death.

Neither option offers life or light. The only choice is to fall into the garbage can and plummet for an eternity or float through infinite space forever. Those are the two choices. That’s what it feels like to me in this place.

In this journey through life, we experience a tapestry of moments, emotions, and reflections. It’s all about growth, change, and the connections we make along the way. So, let’s embrace it all—every messy, beautiful bit of it!