Now featured on Apple Books!

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

The Hollow Understanding of the Machine

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!

The Specific Gravity of the Soul

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! 

The Eternal Significance of the Present

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! 

Opting In: Bipolar Disorder and the Vicious Cycle of Medication

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

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

Regardless, I have sympathy for other bipolar patients who face 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 but still had debilitating side effects. For me, Abilify (generic Aripiprazole, really) is a miracle drug, but I can’t endorse it for everyone. Horror stories can readily be found online of those who took Abilify and had terrible side effects or abnormal behaviors.

However, I am also on a very low dose (5 mg/daily), whereas some of the stories I read involve dosages of hundreds of milligrams of Abilify or another antipsychotic. When I read those reports, I feel like the dosage alone explains their issue: of course these overmedicated patients are experiencing terrible side effects!

Quitting your medication cold turkey—while I can appreciate the temptation—isn’t the answer though. You’re bound to relapse and have another severe 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 for yourself rather than quitting your medication. Work with your prescriber to find a drug that works for you, but has the least side effects. Work to reduce your medication’s dosage until you find that balance of efficacy with little-to-no side effects.

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

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

Reflections on Self-Employment

On Thursday, April 7^th, 2005, in a fit of frustration with my employer, I started doodling on my yellow legal pad instead of paying 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 small mom-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 a particular line of business, and starting to ignore the customers who had got him to where he was. I knew all I'd have to do was scoop up some of the business he was turning away. I hadn’t signed a non-compete agreement, and I was entirely transparent about what I was doing. My boss even supported the effort, happy to have someone to refer his long-time clients to.

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

Eventually, I had enough steady work coming in from multiple clients 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 evenings to work on products of my own design. To help stay focused on my own products, I committed to releasing minor updates of at least one free product each week as a way to slowly grow my intellectual property while 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 the bills first, and yourself second. While I my gross income broke six figures for the first time, I was bringing home the same meagre salary I had with my previous employer. I had to fully fund all of my benefits, which were more costly than 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 employer on a deeper level.

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

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

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

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

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

Eventually, the business ended—a victim of the great recession. One of my clients offered me a job and, having newborn Hunter at home, I jumped at the opportunity.

I learned many lessons by being in business for myself; if nothing else, it has made me a more appreciative employee.

Today, I work for a Fortune 50 organization with over fifty thousand people on staff, the exact opposite of a sole proprietorship. There’s some safety in numbers, and distributing the work across that many people means we can deal with a volume of transactions that I couldn’t have imagined handling in the past. My team and I address software development problems that are more interesting exactly because of their scale. I’m happier now than I ever was working on my own.

 What size company fits you best?

Self-Identification of Bipolar Disability

At my employer, we are asked annually to fill out “self-identification” forms. The company wants to see if any their employees identify as LGBTQIA+, as veteran, or as disabled. Questions like these often appear on application 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% of its workforce, and the workforce of any company it contracts with, are individuals with disabilities.

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

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

Still, I feel conflicted here. Self-identification may help my employer towards their goal. On the other hand, if they decided to audit these self-identification forms and questioned what disability I had, I’d be forced to disclose to my diagnosis to my employer, and while they couldn’t terminate me for having the condition, they could certainly limit my career growth.

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 as fortunate as I am; there are folks who are truly disabled by this condition. I fully support bipolar disorder being a federally recognized disability.

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

I’m just me.

What option would you choose?