Prosthetic Soul-Parts

I have a book to write. It's called The Orphans of Eden, a theory of everything that begins by mapping the human psyche's origins in the garden and traces the ramifications forward through history, then outward into a philosophical account of life itself.

The problem is my brain.

I have executive function disorder. Task initiation feels like pushing through wet concrete. Working memory drops things mid-sentence. Time blindness means hours vanish without warning. Context switching costs me entire afternoons.

This isn't a complaint. It's just the terrain.

So I bought the Even Realities G2 smart glasses. Not because I love gadgets. I'm suspicious of most tech. But I needed scaffolding. Goal setting piped directly into my field of vision. Task management that doesn't require me to remember to check an app. Gentle structure wrapped around a mind that resists structure.

And here's what I keep thinking about: this isn't new.

Humans have always externalized cognition. Carl Sagan talks about exosmotic information is what is stored outside of the body. We offloaded memory into cave walls, then clay tablets, then books. We built memory palaces, literal architectural structures inside the mind to house what we couldn't hold. Prayer beads, rosaries, liturgical calendars. Tools to scaffold attention and intention. Writing itself was once controversial. Plato worried it would weaken memory.

The glasses are just the latest prosthetic soul-part.

That phrase feels right to me. Not "productivity tool." Not "wearable tech." Prosthetic soul-part. Something external that extends the reach of something internal. A crutch, yes. But crutches let you walk.

There's something fitting about needing external scaffolding to write a book about inner architecture. The Orphans of Eden is an attempt to map what's already inside us. The deep structures of psyche. The patterns laid down in myth and echoing through history. But mapping requires stability. It requires showing up. It requires a mind that can hold the thread long enough to follow it.

Mine can't. Not unaided.

So I built the aid.

I don't know yet if the glasses will work the way I hope. I'm early in the experiment. But I'm writing this newsletter, which means something is working.