When it came time to decide what to study, I thought of mainly two options: the human species and the rest of the natural world. At first, I wanted to master the whole of everything, to know math and biology and natural history. I said to myself, “Our lives are determined by the world in which we live, let me learn it.”

But each discipline uncovered a vast abyss that refused to be mastered. I could not learn all of math. I could not learn even the full life processes of a fruit fly. Or the recorded events throughout all of history as they actually happened. I felt small and ungodly to not be able to know, especially at this time in history when to know is so valued.

I focused my efforts and what seemed to matter most. What mattered most, objectively, I did not know. What I did know, or at least so I believe, is that I am, ironically, because I think. And because I am, and I am what I am, I thought that is was what I will study, myself and my species. This is the abyss, which I have found worth the time to struggle to know. Because even though I may not be able to master all of it, or even a tiny fraction of it, every small smidgen of progress is a journey and adventure into myself and the people I love.

I used to think I needed to know more truths to make more money, but money is a man-made thing and truth is not; what I need to know more of is man.

And so too with love: I used to think I needed to get stronger and more attractive and richer; but I really needed only to know more of love itself.