From a quantum physics standpoint everything we sense does not exist. A leaf on a tree is not “really” green, or shiny, or soft with rough edges. Songs from birds or the rush of wind are sensations manufactured for us by an imaginative brain using very partial evidence. So it is no surprise that quantum now demonstrates time does not exist .

The only relevant thing about that – like similar arguments about an omniscient omnipotent God – is that you and I have no free will. Everything we will do is exactly like our past, already cast in stone. Unfortunately, since we do make choices all the time – or die – this is a pretty corrosive attitude .

The plain fact is that our consciousness inhabits only a tiny fraction of whatever “everything” may be. Much of what we know is “true” – like the manifestation of a leaf to our senses – is in “higher reality” not there – just an odd assemblage of molecules and wavicles that themselves are not what they seem .

However, and in “truly real” contradiction, I can choose to eat this green leaf of lettuce. Once I have done so, that choice is frozen. Until then -well so what ?

Mathematics is just as much – or more _ of an imaginary illusion as the leaf. Those who seek to find the “true meaning” of it all are doomed to failure. We are, in fact, “all that we can be,” free will included, and no more than that .

No matter how troubled the world, there are still infinite treasures available to me. Most are concerned with my immediate physical being. The taste of a strawberry. A good night’s sleep. Birdsong in the morning .

Each day, first thing, being an old-fashioned type of guy, I go down the driveway to get the daily paper. No matter what hour, there are some bird noises. Early enough, it is more a beautiful symphony. The various notes and calls assure me that all is well .

Oh, I am quite aware that it may not be so. Birds, like everything else (except maybe bacteria and viruses) are in some danger of extinction in the near future. My printed news may stop at any time. My own brief stay in this universe is coming to an end .

But … today can still be glorious! The world remains vast. Many birds still serenade at breakfast, even as the mix of species varies with climate change. All may not be well, but I can at least pretend it may be so, or will be so, or could be so .

Ignoring the very news I gather off the concrete, I return inside, briefly cheered by wild nature. I suspect life has often been so for almost everyone through all the ages. 

Archimedes famously stated that with a fixed fulcrum and a lever long enough he could move the world. That’s a brilliant illustration of a true mechanical principle. Unfortunately, like other fine abstract truths, it can be misused when extended beyond its meaning. 

For example some people try to see an immovable fulcrum as their “centering” or core purpose. They think of their actions as the lever. And the really fuzzy part is the “world” which becomes not so much an object to be moved as a system to be changed

Obviously it seems useful to have a “center.” Of course, some centers are wrong or evil. And far from being immovable, they can vanish in an instant or mutate into something else entirely different. Religious meditation, a Pandora’s box of ways to find and solidify a “true” center, are available. They all usually fail. None are necessarily “correct” .

Action as a lever is just as helpless. It is no longer just pushing down on some defined goal. You can act sideways, smoothly, with a jerk, or even stop and have unpredictable effects. The illusion of the metaphor no longer holds .

And as for the world – how does one change a complex system? Even a single consciousness – our own – is infinitely and ineffably vast. What could a lever do anyway, except maybe break it ?

This essay is a simple diversion, but I mean it to cast suspicion on any similar tropes which try to extend the artificial universes of math and mechanics into our messy and chaotic human existence .

“What is a man?” asked Shakespeare. “What good is a newborn baby?” asked Churchill. Both a man and a baby have become difficult to define. The religious fanatics who increasingly pack courts and state legislators have a clear answer .

They claim, effectively, that a baby is any bit of human tissue with the potential to become a person. Technology, unfortunately, keeps redefining the boundaries. Once it was all any baby viable out of the womb. Then premature babies could live. Once it meant healthy babies. But technology saves many that were formerly miscarried or dead after a few days. Now the definition has been pushed back to favor for cell embryos, or eggs and sperm, or – soon – any cell that can be cloned .

“God’s gifts” they clamor. But all these god’s gifts eventually die, and have always died, sooner or later. Hard to believe that the exact moment matters all that much to any universal consciousness. 

The sad fact is that humans tend to treat other humans badly, especially if they are not in “our” tribe. What constitutes a person? We don’t even have to look back to the horrid customs of Carthaginians, Romans, Aztecs, or Nazis. Simply look at our own prisons, wars, politicians and… 

I think the current religious fervor in the USA is less about God and more about culture. The “right” kinds of persons are having too few children, the “wrong” too many. A “problem” since at least the time of Augustus .

We should definitely respect “persons.” But it’s hard when we are not sure what “persons” are  and anyway a lot of them are awful .

Most of us know Emerson’s quote “a foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.” It sounds profound. The key word, however, is not “consistency” but “foolish.” You can replace consistency with almost any other noun – even “inconsistency” – and the quote sounds pretty much the same .

My question would be is “consistency” ever not foolish? Consistency is usually only valid for a given time and given conditions. As an example one can go out in New York City on any clear warm summer afternoon without coat or umbrella. Doing so in a blizzard would indeed be foolish Those who try to root their inconsistency in religious certitude – hardcore morality or “age-old values” for example – are the most foolish among us. For all the evils of being too “relativistically” oriented it is in fact our adaptability that has made us masters of the planet .

In a less grandiose vein, it is those who adapt well as conditions change _ presenting new problems and opportunities – who are most successful in life. Consistency is a highly overrated virtue .

Americans’ national foolishness is to overly admire consistency in the views of politicians. Anyone who cannot react well to changed circumstance is hardly qualified to be a leader. Yet we think being so rigid as to be almost insane is a fine qualification. Foolish anything is a hobgoblin of minds little and big as well .

We’ve all heard “this is the first day of the rest of your life.” True enough. It is also “the last day of your life so far.” And, of importance to those of us elders, it may well be “the best day of the rest of your life .”

As you pass the 75-year mark, most surprises are not likely to be good ones. Especially if they involve our own body or mind. We adjust, but in spite of protestations, we will never again be 30, no matter how well we eat or how much we exercise. At any time we may lose all or part of some facility we have taken for granted .

That’s inevitably depressing, especially in a culture that always looks forward to a “new, improved” future. The way we handle it is often to focus on nostalgic memories, or by being as obsessively short-sighted as possible centering on hobbies, friends, or family. “Carpe diem” comes to mean much more than simply seizing the day to make tomorrow better. It’s far more useful to seize the day to make the day better .

Peace of mind in a kind of meditative way is achieved by treating each moment and each day as the last. Leaving as little dangling and undone as possible every night when we go to sleep. Very little will be better handled tomorrow .

It would seem a sad outlook, but I found it astoundingly cheerful and comforting. Part of my deteriorating mentality, no doubt .

There have always been”windy” politicians and priests. Probably ancient Egyptians and druids at Stonehenge had to listen to long boring speeches saying the same things over and over, forever and ever. I’ve sat through my share at schools, churches, businesses, and various community events. Not to mention the occasional over opinionated guest. 

But none of them hold a candle to the current crop of TV commentators and internet personalities. These folks could win contests in spouting empty blah. Some can go on and on for hours using code words and empty slogans essentially saying they don’t know more than anyone else. 

“Orators” seek to convince, and some of these descendants of the classic Greeks and Romans abound in selling things in a consumer culture. It’s a job. Others, however, are simply filling time as if they were musical groups playing a boring symphony. 

It’s probably a sign of the times that these blah blahian cheerleaders can be taken seriously. That probably indicates a great loss of competence in the assumed audience. There must be a few gems among them, but those are easily lost in the vast desert of sterile wordiness. 

Fortunately, it’s still in my power to ignore them as much as possible, enjoy reality, and – if I need stimulation – read books – usually older and less crammed with fluff. Fluff, blah, whatever – emblematic of the new age 

I am sure I have mostly full control over my eyelids. I have less control over going to sleep. Once I get beyond my own body, all bets are off. The world is a lot bigger and stronger than I am, other people rule many areas of it, and change makes the future truly unknowable. 

In so many ways, rationally, I am a helpless speck in time and space. Yet I do not feel helpless. Often just the opposite. It’s an awful lot like the old (useless) debate between free will and predestination. I need to live and act as if I what I do affects my life. Most of the time, I know it does. 

I suspect the main disconnect in modern life – leading to anger, stress, and withdrawal – is simply that we try to know too much about too many things. Our natural need and belief and control extends to all our fields of knowledge. Superstitiously we think we can control the roll of dice, the outcome of games, the very health and existence of the planet. 

In some ways, that is a graceful illusion. However it often leads to disappointment and bitterness. In reaction, we feel totally helpless. On the positive side, like accepting predestination, being helpless can be comforting. ”Not my fault”. 

Perhaps we should try to know less. Perhaps we should care less. Perhaps _ like the free will debate – we have no choice in the matter. 

Since Euclid, it seems, official philosophers have tried to formulate systems similar to his geometry. Not only have those attempts generally failed miserably, but it has also turned out that any philosophy – like any geometry _ only holds true in certain circumstances. For Euclid, the original framework only works on a flat plane _ curvature ruins the perfection. 

Philosophy itself is dedicated to finding the “best” way of life. Now, life itself is a hell of a lot more complex than a flat plane. And the fundamentals shift constantly and often completely.

Most people are encountering crisis frequently, requiring a major adjustment to goals and means. A few undergo a total rebirth where what once seemed clearly true becomes irrelevant or even evil. This is how consciousness works. 

Remarkably, an awful lot of us admire the unwavering diehard fanatic who never adjusts philosophy to fit changed circumstance. Instead of seeing him or her for what they truly are – crippled fools – we claim it is a badge of honor to maintain the same viewpoints forever no matter what. 

Any rigid fragile philosophy soon becomes encrusted with adjustments very similar to epicycles in the Ptolemaic system. Maybe it can creak along, but the elegance has vanished. 

Me? I think philosophy is necessary and should be pretty sticky and permanent. But I also know it must be fluid enough to handle change.  

“A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.” True. Yet before that first step, prudent  travelers prepare. Food, water, footwear. Maps, way stations, lists of things to do or see. Sometimes getting ready takes longer than the actual journey.

As I get older, I find myself becoming more and more “prudent.” Often to the point of paralysis as I carefully examine everything before I do it. Then, I am often surprised at how simple and rapid the actual journey, task, or project turns out to be. 

I think such prudence used to be properly reserved for the elderly, aware of their increasing limitations and frailty. Now it seems that the young have also become somewhat risk-adverse, planning and thinking and not just insouciantly bounding off to adventure good or bad. A loss for such individuals, robbed of spontaneity out of fearful visions. 

Even as an old man, I try to fight my sensible inertia. Weather forecasters command I stay inside. Dietitians clamor I must eat only water and leaves. Doctors want “moderate” exercise, hopefully in a nice safe hermetically sealed gym. I ignore most of it. 

A journey of one mile requires little more than the gumption and effort to get off this couch.