-but Rational Thoughts Lead Only To Rational

Suppose Time Is A Circle, Bending Back On Itself. The World Repeats Itself, Precisely, Endlessly.

A Life Is A Moment In Season. A Life Is One Snowfall. A Life Is One Autumn Day. A Life Is The Delicate, Rapid Edge Of A Closing Door's Shadow. A Life Is A Brief Movement Of Arms And Of Legs.

I Have For A Long Time Loved Fabulist, Imaginative Fiction, Such As The Writing Of Italo Calvino, Jose Saramago, Michael Bulgakov, And Salman Rushdie. I Also Like The Magic Realist Writers, Such As Borges And Marquez, And Feel That Interesting Truths Can Be Learned About Our World By Exploring Highly Distorted Worlds.

In Our Constant Search For Meaning In This Baffling And Temporary Existence, Trapped As We Are Within Our Three Pounds Of Neurons, It Is Sometimes Hard To Tell What Is Real. We Often Invent What Isn't There. Or Ignore What Is. We Try To Impose Order, Both In Our Minds And In Our Conceptions Of External Reality. We Try To Connect. We Try To Find Truth. We Dream And We Hope. And Underneath All Of These Strivings, We Are Haunted By The Suspicion That What We See And Understand Of The World Is Only A Tiny Piece Of The Whole.

I Consider Myself A Spiritual Atheist. I Certainly Believe There Are Forces Bigger Than Ourselves, And That We Should Be Searching, Individually, For Meaning In Our Lives. But I Don't Believe There's A Supreme Being, An Intelligence That Created Everything.