All the words I’d heard about truth came rushing back with your essay. “Beauty is truth, truth beauty…” from Keats’ “Ode on a Grecian Urn” and “ truth is reason; truth, eternal…” from that old Mormon hymn “O My Father”. I honestly don’t know anymore if there is unmistakable, immutable “truth” existing out there. And oddly, I find that so much more resonant and comforting than all the “truth” I was strictly raised to know “without a shadow of a doubt.” What I just knew was right in my past has turned out to be mostly just my perceptions at best, or completely false. Sometimes that’s destabilizing because my human brain wants safety and certainty, and yet isn’t the journey of being a human, warts and all, the point? Certainty, for me, erased my personal journey and set a course created by others, by “authorities”, so that I stopped searching and learning and exploring my own journey. Now that I’m much more closer to the end of my life than the beginning, I am back to my own journey without really knowing the “truth” about the end. And that’s what’s beautiful for me.