Who am I really? Where did all this come from—the 70 sextillion twinkling stars, dark empty space, the radiant sphere of the sun, the mysterious cold white geometry of the moon, our big mudball earth, we 6.5 billion human ants on it, the showers, the soakers, the storms, the rivers rolling to the one big deep green sea? You and me—hey, and that little gnat right there—where are we all going? Why are we born? Why must we die? What should we do while we’re here? Why does life seem so horribly unequal and unfair? Why do some suffer and die while others party and play golf? Why have I been healthy and happy for sixty-three years while innocent, loving children suffer deformity, disfigurement, neglect, molestation, torture, and death? Why are we heartless, cold, and cruel? Why do we taunt and torment the weak? Why do we hate? Why do we kill? Why is there eternal war? How can I help the helpless, the poor, the sick, the dying, the dead? How should I feel in the knowledge of suffering? Why are the moving, changing colors of the sky so beautiful every day? Why do I feel joy? Why awe? What is the meaning of my tears? Why do I cry? What does laughter mean? Why do I laugh? More than anything else, I want to understand.