Some night when you have nothing else to do, take a drive at 3am. If you would always rather sleep, this can be a thought experiment rather than a physical exercise. Try to find a high-traffic road or get on the freeway. If the place you live is anything like the place I live, you'll find a surprising number of people.

It's easy at this time of night/morning to imagine what these people are doing, why they're driving at this hour. That man is on his way to his job in a hospital. That couple is of their way to the same place to give birth to their first child. The teen is on her way home after a late night watching movies at a friend's house. You get the idea.

Realize now that each of them is embroiled in their own story, living a life full of just as much detail as your own. Each one experienced childhood, some happy and loving, some neglectful, some abusive. They went to school and had friends and rivals, favorite teachers and the worst classes. In some cases their lives have extended beyond what you have experienced. They've lost a spouse or fought cancer or watched their body wither with age.

The point is that to each of them their own life is the center of the universe. The everyday stressors and the huge, life-changing events are all so important. This is true for every single person you see.

If you want to really blow your mind, think back to their birth. The parents certainly had profound emotions that day. In fact, that was likely one of those very important days in two entirely different lives, each with its own birth, growth, and perhaps death. The web of near infinite moments and details of life extends back in time, generation upon generation.

Estimates place the total number of humans who have ever lived at over 100 billion. It's easy to separate ourselves from "the other"–people in far off countries with very different cultures, people from the past with low levels of technology. But in fact, their mental faculties, their emotions, their thoughts and lives are very similar to your own. 100 billion people think they're the center of the universe. But they're not.

The truth is that nothing you or I or anyone does is outstanding in the global, long-term scheme of things. There are billionaires and superstars you've never even heard of. Throughout time there have been countless dukes and kings and queens, Ozymandiases all.

Some people look at this and see the miracle of life. Through all of time and space, everything conspired exactly as it had to in order for me to exist. My response is so what? So I can worry about that $60 credit card bill or fret because my car broke down or my daughter broke her arm. As a once famous person in a distantly fading movie once said, "it doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people [or 100 billion] don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world."

Maybe it's impossible to truly internalize, but the next time life seems crazy or overwhelming, try to remember that you and yours, and everyone you know ultimately don't matter.

Last night I played baseball. I played baseball in a dream.

It was near the end of batting practice. I stood in shallow center field waiting for a ball, but nothing was coming my way. Then a left-handed hitter came up, so I jogged over toward shallow right field. As I ran, the fluidity of my pumping legs, the miracle of movement, amazed me as it had never done before the accident. I knew I'd been crippled, and now I was cured, but my dream self didn't ponder the details. 

Suddenly, the lefty hit a choppy grounder past the second baseman. I lacked the lateral motion to get to it, but I flung out my arm anyway. Astonishingly I made the grab. I skipped forward and launched the ball toward home plate. It had been so long, but my body remembered the motion from the thousands, perhaps millions of times I had performed it in the past. The throw was off target, but did it ever fly! Mediocre though it had been, that was the most satisfying play I could remember.

The practice ended, and Mr Ritz, my high school's varsity baseball coach, stood by the backstop picking up stray balls. I jogged toward him, anxious to talk. Sobs choked my throat and blurred my vision as I approached him. "I've played baseball so many times in my dreams. It was incredible to finally do it again in real life. Thank you." The irony was lost on my dreaming mind.

Then I woke up. Then I cried; not a lot, just a few more salty drops on my already tear-stained pillow.

I got this SMS message from the DRD Department at 9am in the morning. "We, Sam and I, are driving the VW wagon to buy NIC cards and LAN network cables to try and fix our IP protocol problem on the PC computers. We'll have to stop at the ATM machine and enter our PIN number to get some cash money."

If you're reading this, you've obviously found my little corner of the internet. Which is odd because I haven't published anything yet. Seriously, why are you here?

But I needed something to kick off the blog, so this is as good as anything I guess. Stick around and say hello or stop back later when there's more to see.