Sand and Foam by Kahlil Gibran

How can I lose faith in the justice of life, when the dreams of those who sleep upon feathers are not more beautiful that the dreams of those who sleep upon the earth?

We are both right.

The sun is warm and the grass it bright and the world is serenely blanketed in the sky's blue.

After hearing an earnest man debate pragmatically in favour of the truths of intelligent design, I no longer felt compelled to stay. I realized that what really bothers me about the argument between creationists and evolutionists is not the logic of either side in particular (the evidence seemed balanced and convincing enough) but the completely polarizing point of view: "I am right and you are wrong and we are brilliant and you are all ignorant." I wish that scientists of both opinions could see that they are all just doing the best they can with what they have; I wish that they would spend some quality time together to really figure this out with all perspectives involved instead of just shouting at each other from opposite sides of the room.

Maybe most scientists really are peacefully searching for truth together. Maybe it is just the didactic ones who make the news, in the same way as the militant terrorist Muslims get all the coverage while the overwhelming majority of peaceful Muslims go unnoticed.

As for me, I would much prefer to bask in the glory of the earth: the music of the songbirds, green of the trees and yellow of the dandelion. Especially on this pleasant February day.

To you, the world is a cesspool of torment, an abomination. To me, the world is an unfathomable beauty and joy. We are both right.

K'ung Fu-tzu

Today, a 2500-year-old man spoke to me through the lips of my white-bearded professor. He beckoned to me from his path, to join him. He told me that, "Fundamentally, people mean well and want to do right." He told me told me that religion and ritual can be useful to help solve the world's problems, but he himself had stepped outside of religion and philosophy and compelled me to do the same. He told me that all his life he was tremendously lonely, but his few friends were the sole joy of his existence: "Is it not wonderful when friends come together from distant places to discuss matters of common interest?" I am tempted to journey forward in his footprints.

but

There is a thing in death that chills my soul
Not to die
But for others
to be
gone

In your death could I celebrate your life?
I
I would mourn.
I would don clothing of black
and lower my head as I walked
and sing rarely.
And then
as I find peace in the moments when we were together
I would all the more weep bitterly for the moments when we could have been.

But the truth is
Your Life is more than your body
And by knowing each other
Neither of us will outlive the other
And in this way
We will life forever