October is my birthday month. Scorpio for those who are interested in such things. At a very early age I was questioning all the fantastical things I was being taught. Tooth fairies, Easter bunnies, Santa, and of course, God. I loved the Jesus and Mary story. The crucifixion, not so much. Nor the idea of some bearded man in the sky running everything. None of that has changed. But at age 70, I am again questioning God. If there is nothing after death, forever, then that is what it is. Time, lots of it, and randomness might be reality. But that is so unsatisfying. From unfathomably large to incredibly small.. the universe as we can be aware of it, is amazing. And it may be but a blip in the actual reality. In the end, does it really matter? Can we not create whatever world we wish to live in? Believe whatever we want? It is our story. Not the truth. Time and truth are just concepts.
Randomness. Coincidence. Serendipity. Luck (good or bad). These are things that happen, like organized chaos happens.
Imagine painting a picture at around age 12. Where did it go? Like all the other things from when we were that age. Unless we died and our parents kept everything like some sort of shrine, it just disappears. Now, imagine 54 years later, in a city 1500 miles from your hometown, in a thrift store in a basement shared with a Flamenco dance studio, finding this same painting for sale ($39.00 - a bargain).
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