It is often said that time heals all wounds, but that is a sentimental lie told by people who have no other advice to give when faced with the wounds of living.
As a cause is something principled and aiming towards a deeper commitment or rise to action in the world, it is not an exaggeration to say that I have spent most of my life as a lost one.
It may not always seem like it sometimes to the people who know me, but I care a lot. I internalize a great deal of concern for other people and their struggles.
If I had played by the rules, listened to the oddsmakers in my life, and folded my hand when everyone said I was going to lose, I wouldn’t be where I am right now.
The word skeptic conjures a host of images. A dour atheist shitting on the miracles and mysteries of the world. A perpetual party pooper that seeks to constantly rain on life’s parade with a shit storm of exposition about why what you believe is wrong, all the while asserting that what they believe is right.
If we are to come to reason well in our lives – come to reason and walk away with something resembling our truth –