—–The nature of experiences, bounded and yet arranged as if around a center of meaning, gives a person the idea that life in general, or life in total, is meaningful in that same, circular way. Because we are always figuring things out, we come to the idea that the mystery of existence is just one, or just the largest, of these puzzles, and that we can apply the same methods to it. But life is incomplete, and will not remit it’s secret.  The concept even, that there is one central secret, shows the habit, again and again. But no, life has no backdrop at all, no context. Is it this missing context, always pressing upon us,  which has forced upon us an essentially insane focus–this attitude of rationality, and these methods for organizing experience? Are we shell-shocked?