As the new year has started, I've had to think hard about what is most important to me in my life. More clients at work has meant less time at home, and less time to divide between my passions. Far and away my greatest passion is guitar, and I've resolved this year to spend much more time practicing regularly. Of course my wife comes first and foremost, and quality time with her must take priority over... well, everything.
I thought last year that I'd continue The A-Unicornist on a semi-regular basis. I even still have some material drafted that's very close to being finished. But after some reflection, I've realized that The A-Unicornist simply is no longer representative of this chapter in my life. I've little interest in answering religious apologetics (been there, done that) or attempting to articulate ideas that are expressed more eloquently by others. This blog has been instrumental in helping me think critically about a great many topics, and I've enjoyed the challenges to my views from those across all spectra of religious and political views. Nonetheless, there are some simple truths that compel me to move on: I'm happy with who I am, I love my life, and I have nothing to prove to anyone else.
I was thinking the other day, quite randomly, about the utter vastness of our universe. It's filled with a hundred billion galaxies, each with hundreds of billions of stars. Here we are, in an infinitesimal spec of time and space, with only a short time to savor our fortunate existence. It's not often we stop to think just how amazing it is that we're here, such a fortunate turn of evolution and a triumph over life on the brink of extinction.
We humans can be quite arrogant, and think it was all put here for us — that we're special snowflakes, imbued with a divine purpose greater than what we make for ourselves. But while there is great grandeur and beauty in the universe, there is also great emptiness, suffering, and death. Acknowledge this reality ought to make us recognize our privileges — to live in comfort, to have the luxury of pondering life's great mysteries, to enjoy music and art and poetry, to revel in the awesomeness of nature, to spend time close to our loved ones.
As I start this new chapter in my life, I'm reminded that I have so much to cherish. I'm fortunate to live a truly happy and simple life. Because our time is short, we must choose carefully what is most important to us. For me, it's my wife, my family and friends, our pets, my music, my health, and of course steak (my only true religion). It's hard to imagine myself leaving writing behind for good, but this blog and the dialogue that flows from it is no longer the right outlet for me.
So, dear readers, I bid you a fond farewell. I won't disappear from the internet or anything; I'm sure I'll pop up in Disqus threads from time to time, and my list of bookmarked blogs remains unchanged. I'll continue to post on the Facebook page for this blog, in part by digging into the archives. And if and when I get around to finishing any of the umpteen books I've drafted, I'll promote them here and possibly even sell them directly. Thank you for reading, for being a part of such a memorable chapter in my life, and for both challenging me and supporting me. I apologize for the unfinished work, but hey — just go read Philosophy in the Flesh, Where Mathematics Comes From, and Metaphors We Live By (all by Lakoff) and you'll know exactly what was on my mind anyway.
"The truth may be puzzling. It may take some work to grapple with. It may be counterintuitive. It may contradict deeply held prejudices. It may not be consonant with what we desperately want to be true. But our preferences do not determine what's true." — Carl Sagan