This is the view tonight of the Seattle skyline from my kitchen window.

Like many scenes, it elicits thought. Of the long journey that brought me to this hill, on this night. A journey full of randomness and choices, of sorrow and joy, and of questions arising. Why here? Why now? Why anything at all? But more importantly, what brought the universe to this point in space and time? As Wittgenstein said: “Not how the world is, but that it is, is the mystery.” We will not solve this mystery in our lifetimes. It will take an eternal cosmos to do that.

But perhaps the cosmos is immortal and we, as a part of it, are too. After all, we know little of cosmic destiny. So who is to say what is possible in the vastness of cosmic space and time?

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