The Inner Monologue

What I’m most proud of in my life isn’t a single achievement, but a pattern — a lifelong habit of curiosity, persistence, and creation. I’ve lived a life defined by exploration: of ideas, of places, of systems both human and natural. I’ve built a career rooted in precision and policy, managing invisible forces that shape the modern world and used that foundation to explore broader questions of how society itself manages its own bandwidth: its attention, its compassion, its collective potential.

I’m proud that I never stopped asking “why.” Whether analyzing federal retirement math down to the penny, exploring solar self-sufficiency in an RV, modeling the economy as a living organism, or imagining alternative histories through fiction — I’ve turned curiosity into a form of authorship. My Inner Monologue project is a reflection of that: thousands of hours of thought, research, and storytelling woven into something that might outlast me. It’s part philosophy, part speculation, part art.

I’m proud that I never settled for being a spectator. I’ve built things — systems, stories, devices, arguments — that are meant to be tested, not just admired. I’ve merged engineering discipline with creative freedom, treating both as expressions of the same instinct: to understand and improve.

And maybe most of all, I’m proud that I’ve tried to live consciously — to see the patterns behind the noise, to challenge lazy assumptions, and to leave behind a trail of writing, design, and ideas that say: “I was here. I thought about this. And maybe you should too.”