There may be a growing sense that our map to this point is faltering.
The standard storyline, the narrative, the linear notion that one thing leads causally to another, that there is truth and justice embedded in the universe,
that a normal human life has meaning as a story: for a variety of reasons, all such ideas are looking more unlikely. What then might be the nature of time, if there is such a thing? How might we usefully understand and negotiate the universe? Could it be that all moments sing, ring out like bells through the dimensions, unrestricted by our ideas of space and time, colluding and colliding to make manifest the vast panorama of the shape of things? Where does that leave us?