Religion and philosophy are basically the same thing, a response to our overwhelming impulse to respond to the unknowable. Both strongly fixate on doing the right thing now to be in harmony with the infinite universe.

I am skeptical of people who tell me that the purpose of life or the will of God is mysterious and beyond our comprehension, but who nevertheless want to explain their take on it to me. I get it, it’s unknowable. It’s fascinating. It helps pass the time. 

Philosophy is generally thought to follow passionless logic and quiet wisdom, often emanating from some dried up old geezer with nothing to lose. Religion, on the other hand, is best led by thunderous prophets with all to gain. But for those unaffected by the plague of the ineffable, they are equally weird.

I embrace the unknowable and coddle my own religious impulse. I pray, if only to create a mantra of what is truly important to me. I tend to respect those with similar beliefs more than others. But I can never claim to know divine truth and I fear those who claim to do so.

I can reasonably discuss what is important to me and to others, but only based on our own intertwining daily lives, never on fevered dreams of cosmic systems.

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