Neil Garrison's Blog

My books are now available on Apple Books at a new LOW price! Check them out!-NG

My latest book, The Hollow Understanding of the Machine is now available on Amazon!

From the summary:

What if the greatest danger of artificial intelligence isn’t what it can do—but what we believe it to be?

In The Hollow Understanding of the Machine, author and philosopher Neil Garrison offers a deeply reflective and urgent exploration of the growing spiritual, ethical, and psychological implications of AI. Far from sensationalist warnings of robot uprisings or digital utopias, this book asks a quieter, more essential question: What happens to us when we mistake simulation for soul?

Drawing from mythology, philosophy of mind, Eastern wisdom, and cutting-edge technology, Garrison traces humanity’s timeless obsession with creating artificial life—and the moral crossroads we now face. From the allure of romantic chatbots to the rise of emotionless AI companions, from the erasure of expertise to the desensitizing effect of cruelty toward machines, this book is a meditation on presence, personhood, and the sacredness of the human experience.

With striking clarity and poetic insight, The Hollow Understanding of the Machine invites readers to slow down, think deeply, and recover what is most at risk in this accelerating age: our empathy, our agency, and our soul.

Order your copy today!

My latest book, The Specific Gravity of the Soul, is now available on Amazon!

From the summary: 

What if the soul is not just a metaphor, but the essence of who we truly are?

In The Specific Gravity of the Soul, Neil Garrison takes readers on an extraordinary journey through the realms of metaphysics, consciousness, and spiritual discovery. Blending insights from science, Eastern philosophy, and personal introspection, this transformative work dares to ask life’s most profound questions:

What is the nature of the soul, and does it transcend death? How are we connected to the universe and each other? Can faith and reason coexist in a meaningful way?

This is a book for seekers—for those disillusioned by dogma but yearning for something deeper. It is for those who have found answers in science but still feel an aching question in their hearts. With clarity, compassion, and a touch of bold imagination, Neil Garrison offers a fresh perspective on timeless mysteries.

Whether you are a philosopher, a skeptic, or someone simply curious about the metaphysical, The Specific Gravity of the Soul will challenge your perceptions and inspire you to see the extraordinary in the everyday.

Order yours today! 

My new book, The Eternal Significance of the Present, is now available on Amazon!

From the summary: 

The Eternal Significance of the Present is a profound exploration of life's most enduring questions, offering clarity and insight through a series of concise, thought-provoking essays. Inspired by philosophy, psychology, Taoism, and Zen, the book examines the human experience—our search for meaning, freedom, and peace—while confronting the constraints imposed by society, our own minds, and time itself.

From dissecting the nature of truth and selflessness to reflecting on the elusive present moment, this work invites readers to embrace a deeper understanding of themselves and the world around them. With its blend of poetic musings, practical wisdom, and timeless truths, this book serves as both a guide and a companion for those seeking purpose, clarity, and serenity in a chaotic world.

Perfect for reflective readers who wish to savor life's complexities one layer at a time, this collection is a call to live fully and authentically in the eternal now.

Order yours today! 

I have written in the past about how I opt-in to sanity by takingmy medication every day.

For me, this is an easy decision. I never again want to experiencethe depression I suffered with my whole life, nor do I want to go into maniaand jeopardize everything I’ve worked so hard for. 

Regardless, I have sympathy for other bipolar patients whoface this decision and opt-out of medication. 

In The Dickensian Reset, I wrote about how I found Lithium—the most commonly prescribed mood stabilizer—to be oppressive. I worked with my prescriber to wean myself off of it.

I also wrote about the different atypical antipsychotics I was prescribed.Some seemed to have no effect; some seemed to make me worse; others worked butstill had debilitating side effects. For me, Abilify (generic Aripiprazole, really) is a miracle drug, but Ican’t endorse it for everyone. Horror stories can readily be found online ofthose who took Abilify and had terrible side effects or abnormal behaviors.

However, I am also on a very low dose (5 mg/daily), whereassome of the stories I read involve dosages of hundreds of milligrams of Abilifyor another antipsychotic. When I read those reports, I feel like the dosagealone explains their issue: of course these overmedicated patients are experiencingterrible side effects!

Quitting your medication cold turkey—while I can appreciate thetemptation—isn’t the answer though. You’re bound to relapse and have anothersevere episode, likely leading to hospitalization, and then be put back onto your medication. To make matters worse, there is evidence that the more you go on these "medication vacations" the more difficult your symptoms become to manage. 

My advice to my fellow bipolar patients is to advocate foryourself rather than quitting your medication. Work with your prescriber tofind a drug that works for you, but has the least side effects. Work to reduceyour medication’s dosage until you find that balance of efficacy with little-to-noside effects.

Never give up hope, keep experimenting, and when you find a regimenthat works for you, keep with it.

If you take a psychopharmaceutical, what has your journey been like?

On Thursday, April 7th, 2005, in a fit offrustration with my employer, I started doodling on my yellow legal pad instead ofpaying attention in a late afternoon meeting.

Specifically, I was coming up with a brand name and logo for my own software development business. I’d had enough of working for the smallmom-and-pop shop, and I felt I could make it out there on my own.

At the same time, my boss was starting to zero in on aparticular line of business, and starting to ignore the customers who had got him towhere he was. I knew all I'd have to do was scoop up some of the business he was turningaway. I hadn’t signed a non-compete agreement, and I was entirely transparentabout what I was doing. My boss even supported the effort, happy to have someoneto refer his long-time clients to.

The business started as a side-hustle; I’d work my day job thencome home to start my second shift. I was easily working over sixty hours aweek.

Eventually, I had enough steady work coming in from multipleclients that I could take the leap and quit my day job.

Becoming an independent consultant meant I could work on client projects during the day, freeing up my eveningsto work on products of my own design. To help stay focused on my own products, I committed to releasing minor updates of atleast one free product each week as a way to slowly grow my intellectual propertywhile also bringing in revenue to feed my family.

But it wasn’t all rosy. I quickly learned some hard facts about being your own boss.Not only was I in charge of producing the software, I also had to be sales rep, marketer,tech support, and accountant.

Another lesson I learned was that being in business for oneself means that you have to pay thebills first, and yourself second. While I my gross income broke six figures forthe first time, I was bringing home the same meagre salary I had with myprevious employer. I had to fully fund all of my benefits, which were more costlythan I had anticipated. Taxes alone ate about 25% of my income.

I was humbled by the realities of managing a small business. I came to respect my previous employeron a deeper level.

But there was something to be said for the excitement of itall; I was flying by the seat of my pants and would enter intolucrative contracts where I didn’t know if I could deliver in time.

I look back on this period of high-risk, high-reward a bitin awe that I was able to accomplish as much as I did. I feel proud that I was ableto support my growing family while going my own way—although it was a bit likewalking a tightrope without a safety net. I had some scares along the way, butI continually brought home the bacon.

At the same time, looking back now through the lens of mydiagnosis, I see something else: hypomania.

I was incredibly productive, but, honestly, the quality ofmy work wasn’t the best. I was self-confident to the point of arrogance: startinga small business requires incredible faith in oneself and the world. You almosthave to be somewhat delusional to go for it.

Hypomanic or not, I reflect on that version of myself andalmost envy the bravado.

Eventually, the business ended—a victim of the greatrecession. One of my clients offered me a job and, having newborn Hunter at home, Ijumped at the opportunity.

I learned many lessons by being in business for myself; ifnothing else, it has made me a more appreciative employee.

Today, I work for a Fortune 50 organization with over fiftythousand people on staff, the exact opposite of a sole proprietorship. There’s somesafety in numbers, and distributing the work across that many people means wecan deal with a volume of transactions that I couldn’t have imagined handling in thepast. My team and I address software development problems that are moreinteresting exactly because of their scale. I’m happier now than I ever was working onmy own.

 What size company fits you best?

At my employer, we are asked annually to fill out“self-identification” forms. The company wants to see if any their employees identify asLGBTQIA+, as veteran, or as disabled. Questions like these often appear onapplication forms and new hire paperwork as well.

The data collected allow the company assess itself on how it is meeting DEI goals. The federal government here in the US has a goal that 7% ofits workforce, and the workforce of any company it contracts with, areindividuals with disabilities.

The last time I was asked to fill out these forms, I noticedthat bipolar disorder is on the list of recognized disabilities.

While I accept that I was certainly disabled during my manicepisode, I don’t feel disabled today, despite my diagnosis. Currently, theonly impact bipolar disorder has on my life is in taking my medication once aday, and obviously I hope it remains that way.

Still, I feel conflicted here. Self-identification may helpmy employer towards their goal. On the other hand, if they decided to auditthese self-identification forms and questioned what disability I had, I’d beforced to disclose to my diagnosis to my employer, and while they couldn’tterminate me for having the condition, they could certainly limit my careergrowth.

There is a third option, which is to not answer the question at all, but then I feel that I would be viewed as someone who is either being intentionally uncooperative. 

To be clear, I know that not everyone with bipolar disorder is asfortunate as I am; there are folks who are truly disabled by this condition. Ifully support bipolar disorder being a federally recognized disability.

But for me? No, I don’t feel disabled. I’m still able tobring my talents to bear for my employer. I do not require any special accommodationsor concessions.

I’m just me.

What option would you choose?

In The Dickensian Reset, I talk about the art that was left behind by earlier patients, in particular, the piece pictured below, which was titled West Energy Wisdom.

While the revised versions contain the below image on the back cover, I felt it would be helpful to share here for readers of the Kindle edition.

There is a saying in Zen:

    Before enlightenment,
        mountains are mountains and rivers are rivers.

    During enlightenment,
        mountains are no longer mountains and rivers are no longer rivers.

    After enlightenment,
        mountains are once again mountains and rivers are once again rivers.

The above image reminds me of this quote, both for its depictions of mountains and rivers, but also for another reason as well.

When I first saw this image upon my first entrance to my room, I saw just a childish scribble. It inspired me to begin writing a sarcastic journal entry about the "mad house art." But as I studied the image, I became enthralled by its beauty: not for the technical skill of the artist, but for what they were able to convey with such limited materials. I found the image incredibly peaceful.

I was impressed by the artwork's accuracy in details, from rivers starting at mountains to the rendering of the moon, which is correctly lit on the proper side by the setting sun.

Moreover, it features many small vignettes:

Two deer stand on the banks of a river; one of them has their head down, drinking from the cool waters.Downstream, a tree has fallen into the river and made a natural dam; salmon are jumping over the log.A mother bear works to pull down a beehive; nearby her cubs wait patiently.The river ends at a waterfall that feeds a large lake; swimming in its clear waters are two massive koi.On a dock, extending into the river, a man in a straw hat fishes, perhaps in hopes of catching those two kings of the lake; his loyal dog sits nearby panting.These scenes drew me into the painting. I could almost feel what it would be like to be sitting on that dock, fishing, gazing into that forest teaming with life; you can imagine how much more I appreciated that feeling of peace while I was confined. 
Now, today, while I can still appreciate the image with the same perspective I had while in mania, I also see it simply for what it is, some crayon on a wall. I can appreciate that my mania caused me to see everything as significant, including this work of art, and it was just some graffiti left behind by a former patient.
What do you see? What other things become more beautiful the longer you look at them?

Part of the reason I've been so busy editing The Dickensian Reset lately was so that I could re-release it as a hardcover edition.
In the book, I refer to many of my journal entries and poems I wrote while in the psych ward—poems that I felt at the time were practically scripture. 
The hardcover edition includes as, an appendix, these journal entries and poetry. Doing so gives the reader a deeper glimpse into my madness, and allows one to flip back and forth between the text and the journal entries, if desired. It's about 60 pages of additional content. 
The best part is, it's only marginally more expensive than the paperback version.
Get yours here:

About a year after the original release of The Dickensian Reset, I decided to share it with a close friend of mine who is going through his own medical scare lately. 

I decided to re-read the text with fresh eyes, and found a number of issues in the original text. I spent the last month re-editing the book, and finally got my perfect read.

These edits included:

Adding missing wordsChanging repeated wordsImproved punctuationchanging some dashes and semicolons to colons where applicablestandardizing the exclaimed question punctuation to !?Breaking quotes into their own paragraphs (in most cases)Clarifying who was speaking (on occasion)While most of these changes do not impact the overall story, they do improve the general quality of the work.

The newly revised edition is now available on Amazon.  I sent updated copies to Phoebe and my friend; I also (finally) sent a copy to the Library of Congress, which I was supposed to do months ago after I received my LCCN.

I also sent the updated editions to NYT and NPR. While I hope they will review the book, it's just as likely that it just gets thrown immediately in the trash heap since it is self-published; but, as the saying goes, you have to be in it to win it.