Base layer

Like the ocean under a hurricane, my surface thoughts are often a convoluted mess of swirling confusion, uncertainty and curiosity, racing and spinning, as I try to capture my ideas with a pen and freeze them forever in their perfect form. They are often scattered, hard to organize and follow, swelling and falling; about once per month they come together for an hour or so, giving me an opportunity to write before exploding once more.

Beneath this storm, as one goes deep, things become serene and comfortable, rarely disturbed by the tumult above.

Though I enjoy getting lost in the wind, beneath it all I am quite happy; at my core, I am at peace. For me, all this anxiety, this drive and energy to find and do something meaningful, something articulate, something amazing is a game of complete luxury; it's a competition with myself to pass the time, to inspire and challenge me, to have fun in my own way.

How can I not? I live in this beautiful place that has been breathing and evolving for 4,500,000,000 years, and I have 52 more years to be in it. I live in a house built by the 125,000th generation of people, where I can watch the rain fall upon a backdrop of green. I have food shipped to me from thousands of miles away, planted and harvested for me, delivered a block from my home, in exchange for helping people organize their photographs. There are 3,000 years of written thought just down the street, a 15-minute walk. All of these things were here before I opened my eyes.

I can talk with anyone about any thing; my closest friends talk back. I can travel to any place on this pale blue dot. I can create.

Standing upon this fortune of history, paired with a fortune of thought, I find a deep confidence in my self. Despite my at-times-uncertain exterior, I know that I "get it," that I -- for whatever reason -- share many qualities with and identify with the great men of history. I see this in many people -- people in my work, in my town, in my life, in my past, people who can think and act, despite their transient self-doubts. I've felt this for years. And while my surface is searching, searching for the details of what's "right" or what's "wise," I have almost always seen my self as an inexorably advancing wall of ice.

Concentrically around this core are layers of passion, angst and curiosity, among other things. But, it seems my hour is up.