City of Brahma-Space of the Heart

The History of Indian Philosophy divides the thirteen principle Upanishads into two groups, those of the Brahmana period and those which originate later. Those of the Brahman period are seven, Brhadarnayaka, Chandogya, Kausitaki, Isa, Taittiriya, Aitareya, and Kena, with the Brhadarnayaka (Brih) and Chandogya (Chand) as the eldest of this group. The Brahmana period is between 800 - 600 B.C. In these earlier ones, the "space of the heart" is the domain of Brahman. Here is an excerpt:

Now what is here--in this city of Brahma [explained by Sankara as the body] is an abode, a small lotus flower. Within that is a small space. What is within that should be searched out; that, assuredly, is what one should desire to understand.

If they [pupils] should say to him: "This abode, the small lotus-flower that is here in this city of Brahma, and the small space within that, what is there that should be searched out, which assuredly one should desire to understand?"

He should say: "As far, verily, as this world-space "(ayamakasa) extends, so far extends the space within the heart. Within it, indeed, are contained both heaven and earth, both fire and wind, both sun and moon, lightning and the stars, both what one possesses here and what one does not possess; everything here is contained within it."

©1999 John Scanlan/All Rights Reserved

A Few Early Poems

November Moon Child - For Rob

The low moon rests
Among the dark clouds
Coolest of light, but lovely
The branches near his window
Whisper with silver breath
Thin songs in stillness

On the threshold of winter
Crystals along the garden’s edge
Glimmer back starlight

All on this November eve—
Among the dark clouds 
The low moon rests
                                      1990


Disengno - On Leaving Florence

In Rome
I saw no Coliseum or cats
No hand of God drawn by the Master
In the Sistine Chapel

I saw only the cracked ceiling of the stanza
Where upon I traced out my destiny
With fears and regrets
The spaces were all filled by morning

And you—restless
Over your vino or cappuccino
Wondering where to draw the line
(to or from me)

You’ve drawn a circle instead
(me on the outside, of course)
a lifetime ago

I drew myself there too
On the ceiling before I left Rome
Without seeing the Coliseum or the Sistine Chapel

What is at the top of the Spanish Steps?
                                                             1973


Tree of Life - For Seth

We have all left the garden—
As the story goes
With the legacy of our first brothers

Children of Cain claim consciousness
Create out of the earth
Build up a world of stone and technology
Thus—the world as we know it comes into being
Homage is paid to the monuments of men

Children of the Abel stream are silent
Stand in reverence at the cave of wisdom
Remember the world can be redeemed in an instant
Thus—the world as it is and will be--appears
Homage is offered at the inner temple

Seeds have been given to the Seth child
From which grows the Tree of Life
                                                         1998

Deep, Deeper and Deepest: Buber, Rumi, Campbell

Deep: Martin Buber
Real faith does not mean professing what we hold true
in a ready-made formula. It means holding ourselves
open to the unconditional mystery which we encounter
in every sphere of our life and which cannot be
comprised in any formula. It means that, from the
very roots of our being, we should always be prepared
to live with this mystery as one being lives with
another. Real faith means the ability to endure life
in the face of this mystery.

Deeper: Rumi 
To speak the same language is to share the same blood, to be related
To live with strangers is the life of captivity
Many are Hindus and Turks who share the same language
Many are Turks who may be alien to one another
The language of companionship is a unique one
To reach someone through the heart is other than reaching them through words.
Besides words, allusions and arguments
The heart knows a hundred thousand ways to speak.

Deepest: Joseph Campbell
Reading again, Joseph Campbell’s The Masks of God: Primitive Mythology, I have found the following thoughts worth pondering  (if you are disposed to think about such things). I recommend his remarkable study, as it explores the common foundation/purpose of myths, and takes us way down into the "deep, deep well of the past," not only to our cultural/geographic roots, but also to biological, psychological and even pre-historic origins, thus providing some insight into ourselves and the world--past, present and future.
        In the Foreword and Prologue of The Masks of God, Campbell considers his twelve year research in comparative mythology as confirmation, “of the unity of the race of man, not only in its biology, but also in its spiritual history, which has everywhere unfolded in the manner of a single symphony."  Her found worldwide common themes of  "fire theft, deluge, land of the dead, virgin birth, and resurrected hero....appearing everywhere in new combinations."
        Commenting further on this phenomenon, he notes, “No human society has yet been found in which such mythological motifs have not been rehearsed in liturgies; interpreted by seers, poets, theologians, or philosophers; presented in art; magnified in song; and ecstatically experienced in life empowering visions….Every people has received its own seal and sign of supernatural designation, communicated to its heroes [and prophets] and daily proved in the lives and experience of its folk."
        Campell reminds us that these stories and “revelations” have inspired many “who bow with closed eyes in the sanctuaries of their own tradition, [yet] rationally scrutinize and disqualify the sacraments of others...." when "an honest comparison immediately reveals that all have been built from one fund of mythological motifs—variously selected, organized, interpreted and ritualized according to local need…” He confirmed that humans,"have chosen not the facts in which the world abounds, but the myths of an immemorial imagination—preferring even to make a hell for themselves and their neighbors, in the name of some violent god, instead of accepting gracefully the bounty the world affords."
        Campbell asks, “Are modern civilizations to remain spiritually locked from each other in their local notions…” and traditions of these myths/stories/religions, which essentially drive us “diametrically apart?” While the above affirms what we already know: that mythologies can be destructive, or at least divisive, we also realize through Campbell's study that mythology is the mother of all arts and reveal a unity rather than a division. Speaking of the best of human creation, its subtleties, its ambiguity and mystery therein, he quotes from James Joyce's Finnegan's Wake: "utterly impossible as are all these events they are probably as like those which may have taken place as any others which never took person at all are ever likely to be."
        At this stage, however, in humanity’s development, Campbell calls for a new understanding and imagination of a “broader, deeper kind than anything envisioned anywhere in the past" something, “far more fluid, more sophisticated than the separate visions of the local traditions, wherein those mythologies themselves will be known to be but the masks of a larger….'timeless schema' that is not schema."
        First, humanity's development would have to be such that it could understand our individual, communal expressions of local myth/story/traditions (e.g., exclusive fundamentalist approach to religions) as part of a larger reality? It does not seem that humanity's develpment has progressed to that point.  Still, Campbell asks us to imagine what a common vision would look like, especially if we have fully digested what his research has revealed--that we are united in common history and story.

     It may be that most people are not interested or concerned with how myth or the unity Campbell has found and reveaved communal could affect our lives, and the lives of others and the world. Many into the forseeable future will continue to cling to their exclusive world views, making, "a hell for themselves and neighbors... instead of accepting gracefully the bounty the world affords."
           May the future generations open to an cosmic, ecumenical perspective to live and to enjoy what unifies, rather than what divides us.

THEMES AND VARIATIONS - SOUL BIOGRAPHY

It is not the only the chronological events that tell the story of a life. Our birthplace, upbringing, education, work/profession, cultural, social, religious connections. We arrive into some of these circumstances, they happen to us, or accompany us along the way. It is through them, not because of them, or sometimes despite them that we become who we are. It is more our inner impressions of them, our small and large "awakenings" that reveal the theme and variations of our lives, and that is the real and true story of our lives, and only we can tell it truly. But first, we have to both go within and stand outside of ourselves to read and tell (if we so choose) our “soul” biography.
    Then, it may be that we see that our life has unfolded out of more mysterious forces which challenged, guided, and shaped us. Our fate is embodied in our experiences of the familiar and often in what may have seemed insignificant and ordinatry, as well as the momentous, profound and/or traumatic. It is important to explore the dark as well as the light places, the small and narrow spaces. Tracing the secquence of events, like we do in a fading dream, we may recall a word, a look, an image, a gesture, something left unsaid, whispered or shouted at us. Any or all of these memories and expereinces brings into focus our life's journey as we sort through our intentions, our burdens, our comforts and all that may have hindered us or moved us forward, released and enlightend us. All together our biography reveals a complex composition of light and dark; nevertheless, we will undoutedly find an underlying theme with variations.

As I review my life, I have had to reckon with experiences that have had the most impact. These seem to be the parts of my life that loomed large, while these could be attributed to the vulnerability and ignorance of youth, they were most momentous and hardest to look at--but certainly have had lasting effects on my thoughts, feelings and actions. They loomed large, so I knew where to look; others were more challening to identify, but those small and seemingly insignifcant ones were just as, or even more integral to the whole. As l begin to understand parts of my life, their relationship to one another and to the whole, I feel I have acquired some hard-won self-knowledge and wisdom from those experiences and also from innate capcities that sometimes guide us through-- unawares. 

    I also know there are parts I have not considered, maybe subconscioulsy avoided that may have a relationship to the whole--the missing parts! The knowledge/wisdom I have found in my soul biography came out of  some of the following experiences and realizations, some of which have made possible looking more deeply. 

Observing, experiencing, responding to, appreciating beauty in all its forms and manifestations, and also creating beauty wherever, whenever, and however I am able.

Most valued and worthy of these "creations" are my sons, though whom I have loved deeply and unconditionally.

 My creative "art" is writing, which hase been therapeutic and enlightenting as I learn what I think, know and feel as I write and as I am inspired (from who knows where?).

Finding, making and taking opportunities for dear family and friends to be together for key moments in our lives and also for the experiences of sheer joy, fun, learning, laughter, conversations, work and play to be shared.

Recognizing that everyone has a story, circumstances and conditions which they come out of, that forms and shapes them in positive and negative ways, and while that may not be an "excuse" for bad behavior, it is a reason for understanding/compassion that can go a long way toward inner peace for our own flaws and acceptance of others.

Acknowledging pain, sorrow and loss, our our own, and that of others. To fully experience grief, to forgive oursleves and other and ask to ask for forgiveness. Often, to the extent we are able to do this, we are able to more fully feel and create joy and to be more open to life.

Gratitude for gifts we are given in all realms of life, and for gifts we are able to give to and share with others, which can be as simple as support and encouragement.

Being available to help, comfort and affirm others (even in small ways), and to maintain and honor those connections we have established, as well as being open to making new ones.

Maintaining emotional equilibrium and accepting life on its own terms, especially when it is clear that there is nothing to be done, but at the same time striving for the greatest freedom and choices for ourselves and others.

Striving for self-knowledge and consciousness in context (to the appropriate time and place/phase of life), awareness of our motivations, self-deceptions, defense mehcanisms, etc. as much as possible and to know, even with our best efforts we may be be thinking, feeling and/or acting with full knowledge of others, of situations/circumstances and, most of all, of ourselves.


Note: I often ask myself, and often too late: Why did I say (or would say) or do something? In what tone of voice or gesture, for what purpose (to be right, to prove a point, because I was thoughtless?) and what are (were) the likely effects be, on me and on others?


Being aware of the world around me, local, national, international, the trends and movements toward or away from beauty, goodness and truth, human right and the welfare of people everywhere with sadness and compassion, but without a feeling of hopelessness, resentment, stress and/or anger.


Note: This is one of the hardest to carry through and felt on a very real and deep level. Remaining positive or at least not consumed by the illogic, selfishness, brutality, violence, crime throughout the world to the point of its affecting my mental pand physical health. Keeping hope alive and depair at bay is a balancing act.

Remembering not to take ourselves too seriously.

While many of the above considerations may not sound like revelations, or even like like old tunes (and seem more so if given as advice), for me, they truly "researched" insights, understood on a deeper level because of reviewtudy and reflection on course and events of my life, and in consideration of the effects they have had on my behavior, perspective and world view.

Out of these insights has come a measure of peace and understanding, not once and for all, but the signficance and depth of which has to be called to mind again and again. They are the variations on the theme of my life, which are familiar, but which have to be recalled from time to time and are not always possible to act on with distractions and the responsibilities of louder, more insistent and dissonant notes of the daily, parallel life lived on the surface of time and space.

Life's symphony, of course is never completed or completely comprehended in its entirety.

COGITO ERGO SUM

What is thought? “I think, therefore I am,” (cogito ergo sum) was coined by Descartes in his Discourse on Method (1637). In the quest for certain knowledge in the field of Metaphysics (the study of the fundamental nature of reality) he posited: I may doubt many things, but doubt must be thought by an entity, and thus is proof of the reality of the mind that thinks and there must be a self in order for their to be thought.
    It does seem to me that thinking can lead us to consciousness, shapes us, makes us aware of ourselves as individuals--in fact, we "are." Of course there are factors that may determine how and what we think, both negative and positve. When I tried to remember my first inclination toward thought, it seemed that it evolved out of sense experiences--going from from feeling to thinking.
    From an early age, there were two places where my senses were fully engaged: library and church. Both were on the steepest hill in my town, and I visited each regulary. In the quiet and beauty of each place, I was removed from the ordinary, taken away from the drab row houses up and down my narrow street, from the rumble of the train on the elevated rail nearby, from my school with its paved recess yard, gated with a high, black iron fence. And so, I entered the silence of these places with a natual reverence for and anticipation of what I would experience in each, with its own purpose and solace. It was in these "sanctuaries" that I first imagined things extraordinary beyond time and place.
    In the church, especially before and after services, I took in the marble alter's gleam, streaming light from jeweled windows, statuary of somber saints and watchful angels, echoing sounds, tiered rows of votives glowing through red glass, air rife with incense, and the image of a tortured human being hung on a cross. The senses were brimful wonder, imagination, questions and intuition of the mystery of it all.
    In the liturgy of the high mass, there was the chanted litany (naming) of saints, and the congregation's response, "ora pro nobis" (pray for us). It was hypnotic. Later, when English became the language of the liturgy, we could hear the appellations given to the Mary (referred to as the Blessed Mother of God), and they alone were enough to stir the imagination into thought: tower of ivory, house of gold, queen of angels, morning star, mirror of justice, mystical rose. mean to a child?-What could these mean to a child? to me they were images of beauty and mystery.

    Then there was a prayer learned in prepartion for first communion. Though I no longer participate in organized religion, the last few words of that prayer still come to mind. They inspired a thought in me, one I believe with all of my being to this day: "...only say the word, and my soul will be healed." Though it was a prayer to God to say the healing word, I felt it was also a revelation that a word/words can heal, and has been proven to me many times over in my life--both my own to others and others' words to me. Aren't we,  supposedly made "in the image of God," also co-creators, and certainly have the oppotunity to speak and receive words of healing  

    

    Then there was the library, another place of peace and joy, a great castle-like library with its turrets, granite steps leading to the portal--a carved wooden door-- a child could barely pull open. Its fairytale appearance was part of the alure of it, and its inner sanctum was no less mysterious than that of the church. To "hear' the silence, to see the shelves stacked with books, waiting to be opened to transport me to everything and everywhere that was not me and my world. If I could have described the feeling then, it may have been, “so many books, so little time." So little time to make the delightful decisions to bring home only a few each time, mostly choosen by their covers, titles, first few sentences or an illustrations within.
    As a yonger child, one book whose cover called to me was Silk and Satin Lane. I may have also been drawn in by the "s" alliteration, and imagining how silk and satin would look and feel (I had never seen or touched either). It had a bright pink cover with silhouetted children holding umbrellas, dressed in unfamiliar garb. In pre-adolescence, I was drawn to another cover with the face of a young woman looking out at me with a wisdom way beyond her years and with a sadness in her eyes that I somehow recognized. It was The Diary of a Young Girl: Anne Frank

     I related to her experience of being a young girl, as she wrote of experiences, feelings and thoughts about relationships with family, here inner life-- from a girl my own age. She had such insights and  tender feelings. A figure from the past she was, yet a signficant part of my present, and an inexplicable sense that she was also a “future person.” From her, I also took in what is most noble and true about being human, in her words:  But, it was also where I first learned about the Holocaust.
    It's a wonder I haven't abandoned all my ideals; they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good heart…. I must hold on to my ideals. Perhaps the day will come when I'll be able to realize them!
    What I felt then when I first read this passage from Anne was similar to when I heard that prayer about healing words. They have  remained with me as a force “breathe in.” Such thoughts impart hope, are felt as light, can be called upon again and again as a source of strength and even of actions taken with consciousness and conscience: right speech and trust in humanity.
    As I matured, those feelings in the church and in the library transformed into thoughts which nourished another part of me-- the "I am." Thoughts are real, living and present within me, yet transcendent, combine with others to create new thoughts that also inspire my wrirting. 

    In those early years, I sensed, and now I know that the sounds of words have formative forces to engender reveries, imaginations and inspiration, but can also harm, cause pain and be destructive. They have the power to impact and even change minds and the course of history, transforming the world—for better and, unfortunatey, also for ill.
    As I was awakening to pain and pleasure, to beauty, ideas and ideals, there was an inner seed being nourished with these essential elements, sending down roots in the darkness and silence of soul, which, many years hence, have put forth blossoms--emerging into the light of expression through my writing.

    “I think, therefore I am”? Or, is it that “I am, therefore I think”?

GETTING OLD(ER): A Heart, A Head, Some Nerve

George Carlin got it right when he noted that we talk about getting
"older" but never about getting "old." It is funny and sad, but true, that we usually don’t (or can't) say, “I am old now.” That would be announcing (to ourselves and the world) that we now have all the associations being old (sterotypical as they may be): no longer interesting, energetic, motivated, or “with it," not as "youthfully" attractive or desirable. Of course, there are visible as well as physical changes that accompnay aging that cannot be hidden, but rather than accept them, we may deny them or at least avoid talking about them.

    At some point, if we have worked, we retire and/or let go of some of our responsibilities and connections, which can be liberating or necessary to transiton to what a new reality is, or what we wish our lives to be in our later years. The worst part of aging for some is feeling less relevant, maybe having withdrawn from serving on board, initiating and working on projects, contributing ideas to groups and/or organizations we have belonged to. Our activity now may be more focused on our inner life, our memories, what we want to spend our time doing, thinking our own thoughts--all good things and well-deserved. 

    One thing we cannot deny, living in a material world is that youth, beauty and relevance are desired and desirable, perhaps just because they are so fleeting. But, nothing can stop aging—not chemical peels, surgery, crossword puzzles, exercise, not even thinking positively. “You are as old as you feel.” I love that one! Most likely others perceiving a person who doesn't feel as old as she is will not respond or interact with her as they would a younger person, no matter how young she herself "feels." We are conditioned to worship youth, and, while there is the versimilitude that old folks should be respected for their wisdom and experience, often they are not.
        Ultimately, though it occurs throughout our lives, aging involves more change and more loss; most of us eventually relinquish our careers (imposed or intentional). We lose touch with friends and loved ones, or lose them to death. Our physical strength, energy and stamina does shifts in some way. We may (if we are fortunate) have cast aside our illusions (especially the one that we are "in contro"l) and our unrealistic expectations (of ourselves and others). Loss is an underlying theme of life, an unbroken thread of existence until we submit to the final earthly good bye.
    If you believe in a hereafter where you will “live on” in some better place and be reunited with loved ones, you can rest in that thought. If you believe there is no afterlife, that death is truly the end, you can rest in the thought of oblivion (although it sounds horrific and “not fair”), you will not feel anything, know or experience anything, and there will be no Judgement Day. Humans tend to live in an "either/or"mentality. The question of what happens after death, we usually believe it is all (a happy place) or nothing (oblivion). But since not one of us knows, we can only believe, or wonder.
    I wonder and imagine if we will be dimly aware, neither annihilated nor in a painless and trouble-free heaven. Will we feel ourselves moving away from earth, from our earthly life and memories? Will we in fact be accountable, not assined to hell or punishment, but in some other way? Will we be presented with our feelings, thoughts, words and actions and how they impacted ourselves and others, conscious in some way of what we brought into being, maybe even experience what others felt because of our foolishness, unkindness, selfishness, anger, pride, greed, envy, untruths, prejudices, brutality, violence, and conversely the care, kindness, happiness, compassion, support and comfort we gave to, or on behalf of, others?

    Might it be that we get more than one chance to get it right? Will we be born again to balance the scales as part of the cycle of reincarnation/karma? In this way of thinking, it seems possible that the more we practice and develop consciousness and conscience here and now, the less we may have to be painfully aware or pleasantly surprised in an afterlife or in successive lives. While I have given much thought to repeated earth lives, read about it, discussed it with others who do believe in the necessity of and function karma serves, I have not fully explored, studied it enough to come to any conclusions about it or certain belief in it. One thing I do believe firmly is that it behooves us to strive for consciousness and conscience anyway, and to aim to live by the Golden Rule: "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." It's as simple and impossible as that.
    Maybe it is wiser to take the philosophical perspective of Skepticism. Since nothing can be known for certain, I can only imagine and wonder as I do, but in the end, I must endure life's mystery with its incertainty, its darkness and light. I have considered many religous traditions and beliefs. I have tried to live by what I found most worthy to practice in this life I am given, not just for myself but for the good of others. I have not been true to or consistent in any one religious tradition or spiritual practice, except attempting to remember the Golden Rule. I also have respected the Eightfold Path of Buddhism with an awareness of the value of right speech, right thought, right action as the main ones. I am also sure that, like the lines in a perspective drawing, my spiritual intentions have sometimes disolved into a vanishing point instead.
    It is difficult to be consistent in the earthly realm of opposites! I could be a defensive, “vulgar neurotic” and quote Emerson’s: “A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds.” I just have! And, I can say that I started out with “good intentions” to understand that there are many ways to think about and live life, and we all must find our own way. It seems though that no matter how conscious we become, there will always be aspects of ourselves of which we have little or no awareness or understanding: those gaps, tendencies, quirks and deficits in our beings (much more evident in others than in ourselves), and which, therefore, can not easily be changed or redirected. Then, there is the “built in” mechanism in our psyche working overtime to prevent such awareness, especially since it would mean acknowledging our flaws in order to change. Although at times I “get tired of it all,” and feel I can not think about any of it any longer—maybe that is when I can say, "I have arrived, relax and just live my life—old or not."
    But I don't, I can't, I may never! I do manage most days to devote some thought to the following: what I have done or not done; what I could have done differently, how my thoughts/words/actions have affected others, what my underlying motivations may have been. I have to guard against getting too dark or too light in my perceptions, mythologizing my goodness or despairing at my failures (those ever-present polarities). Does my approach serve my good intentions? I believe so when I follow through with them which means having reflected on how far off I usually have been. I haven’t given up yet.
    I sense there is a guardian in my being, a monitor, a mediator, an inquisitor who asks these questions to redirect me, and allows me to see myself at my worst and at my best, as Rumi suggests, like the moon--"sometimes full, sometimes crescent." This companion also allows me to experience the joy of being, sense experiences of the curve and color of forms, the warmth of human society, the flight of a bird, the mystery of the heavens, the light shining from the faces of my grandchildren.
    As I age, I feel the urgency to live life to the fullest—to eat, drink and be merry with those I care about, to learn more, to see more clearly, to understand more by thinking in the gap between how things are and how they "should/could" be! So aware of those gaps, it hurts to know that at any given moment there is so much suffering, pain, trauma, violence, injustice and exploitation, and tht I am unable to do anything to ease it. Hopefully, we all touch lives in ways we never can imagine. I hope so, as we know those people, events and places that have touched us, moved us, saved us.
    Always present is my longing to be with my family—to see them often, to be near to them, to hug them, to cook for and with them, to sit and talk around a dinner table, to understand who they are and will be. At the same time, I am pleased to have and require the solitude of independence with a rich thought and creative life apart from family. Teaching, reading, study, reflection and writing have been therapeutic, inspirational and have helped to brings a balance, a center, a focus to my life.
    As I think and write about these thoughts and feelings now--constant companions as I wend my through aging on a path with  light-filled and dark places. I am grateful for it all. I have enjoyed my work, my home, my world, cherished my family and friends, and have attempted to face challenges in a conscious, rational, practical, yet caring way (for the most part). I have met my obligations in a responsible way (for the most part). I have tried to strike that balance between opposites and to accept change in a calm way (after initial anxiety and fear). And, there have been the gifts of grace and mercy when least expected.
    The most memorable and rewarding part of life was when our children were growing and at home, when everything was still ahead with peak life forces available. Still, I enjoy precious human warmth and LOVE: the great joy-bringer and deep ache-maker. Love is the one thing I do believe in without any doubt, worth living and dying for—the blossom, the wing, the star of life—opening us, lifting us and raying out and shining upon us.
    Fortunately, I am experiencing a second coming of those more more youthful days through our grandchildren. Near or far, we are part of each others' lives. I am grateful to receive and give LOVE, which may well be the only thing that transcends death, and it may just be that it is LOVE that brings us back to the green earth.
    The essence of my dilemma about life and death is that right here and now: I am this unique person--this one time--in this particular place, with these seven parts to play on this world stage, with these friends and this family. Even if am reincarnated, I won’t be this version of me, with this life and these children and grandchildren—whose faces I have loved to look upon. It is hard to grow old, as we have to also imagine and face the final loss and letting go, but let go we must.

    These are the things I think about as I am getting old(er)—silly as they may be in the face of a universe of wisdom (beyond comprehension), a universe of mystery and meaning (beyond reason). Is this how it is "supposed" to be? This is how it is, and we must say, “YES” to a life filled with all its labor and loss, and its abundant blessings.