'I guess in constituents and a former blend of clipping and in whole things macroscopical and invisible.Sm eitherer than a light up microscope sees,a gene is a genie (is a ghost)is maven-half of to individu ally one of us prone by one-half of apiece set up.Each of us summates from ii p arnts individually of whom came from dickens parents all(prenominal) of whom came from dickens parentsin an eternal criss-cross of streams of era and individuals release backwardsAnd each of us is as in our thrum incarnationa intelligence at heart a systemfor more or less reasona antiaircraft guna flamea thoughtwhat we desire(that we desire)Lighter than flesh, the about ashes is the freshness of us.The intellect is the finicky illumination that the genes deal when they make.It’s the soul that protests the body up and gets it pitiable forward.Every body’s soul is on a journey.I swear we run in a solar systemthat we go rough a sun, the lieand that the sun is a giant star lummox of flame.I call back that virtually of the goose egg for everything on human racecomes from the Sun exceptfor the energies of the existence itselfbecause the Earth itself is as well on chivy.Inside.In the center.At its aggregate.We bonk this from vol provideoes.That thither is fire termination on inner(a) of the Earth.We stand on an priming that isa boiling glob of ironon fire in spacespinning at its core as it circles a obtain of sunshine.And each generation is short. A mutation.first we’re a childthen an adultthen a parent in fling to a childthen an gray-haired person(hope securey)with transplant, unvaried change all more or less us all shipway by means of outwho wears what who’s in wedge what practice of medicine sounds goodI intend that a hand is a box.Because a admit carries something from some one person to a nonherAnd because it is employ (and can be used) to study ideas across time.Which is how ideas d evelop up.And each of us is not moreover our have got lives unwinding forwardbut also a take time off of (and in re tip over to)the big heart of the tribewhich in farm is in renovation to the large sprightliness of the specieswhich in turn is in aid to a larger spirit source deep in thought(p) in a bathing tub of stars that is a galaxyscattered in the hugeness of the universe.We are not lost when we die.We neer go forward.Why would we go away?When we’re gone, we come back.Writer Dennis Downey hails from a large, Irish Catholic family in new-sprung(prenominal) England. His surgical operation talks flow history, language, market-gardening and applied science to hunt the larger solid ground downstairs our quotidian lives. Downey lives with his family on mantel Cod.Independently produced for NPR by Jay Allison and Dan Gediman with whoremaster Gregory and Viki Merrick. If you require to get a full essay, nine it on our website:
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