Monthly Archives: September 2017

I have a nagging fear that any sense of meaning that any given human sees is, in fact, just an artifact of apophenia. Perhaps it’s time to reread Daniel Dennett‘s Breaking the Spell.

I find sand mandalas interesting as a meditation on beauty, transitoriness, and transitory beauty.

I’ve been obsessing over the ambiguous meaning of the English word “meaning.” What does “meaning” mean?  Intention?  Significance?  Importance?  Consequence?

There is a quote, possibly from Kinky Friedman but usually misattributed to the barstool poet Charles Bukowski, that says, “Find something you love and let it kill you.”

Rereading Frankl got me thinking about the the possibility that life may have meaning which is simply beyond my comprehension.   I modified Pascal’s wager to clarify my thinking. To Be Not to Be Meaningless 0 0 Meaningful +x -x If … Continue reading →

Viktor Frankl was a Jewish psychologist who survived the Nazi concentration camps.  His book Man’s Search for Meaning is partly a memoir of his time in the camps and partly an overview of his “Third Viennese School of Psychotherapy” called … Continue reading →