“I think you meant that we just can’t know. And that our brains fill in all the details, for good or for ill. We want to tell ourselves a story—any story—so we can get back to certainty,” I reply. “You know me! I am so desperate to know what’s going to happen. At least so I can prepare.” “I sound really deep,” he says. “I just need to make it to fifty. I need to make sure that kid is launched. I need to get most of my life done. I need to lock it down.” “But it comes undone. There are so many times in life when we think we have it locked down,” he says. We are quiet again. Plans are made.
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