I worked for a time in the Philosophy department of a university.  It was hilarious hearing all their arguments and long-winded big-worded tirades on existence.  But it is truly something that has puzzled me–or fascinated me since I was a child.

What makes me “me”?  How am I me and not you?  What is it about myself that is the same from now that is identified with me as a blonde curly haired sweet little thing of the age of 7?  And are you really out there or is this completely a dream?  That’s what the Buddhists say–this is the dream and the meditative life is the truth.

But I’m not meditating much these days.  Sure, I should, sure.  I know that womb-life of heaven is just a few long deep breaths away.  But what am I here in the crisp cold morning air of my human existence to be?  To do?

Do be do be do–says Frank Sinatra.  Perhaps it is just mine to sing, dance, and play with this exquisite world, the astounding creatures, the very blessed event of being on Earth.