I’d rather take my chances on the “highway” than accept Polly’s way. Dogma was never for me. There is hardly a truth in life that doesn’t change. Jeff’s scientific certainty is another dogma. My siblings used to ridicule each other’s perspective. Polly laughed at the way science facts were slippery and kept changing. Only her cornerstone had the eternal truth. Jeff mocked Polly’s Bible for being a collection of made up stories. My answer to them is that no dogma will endure forever. And that’s what I love about Emerson’s writing: almost unstable how it meanders like a stream, improvised from the start with no known destination. His method mirrors the way truth is, protean and dynamic, shifting shapes to deliberately elude us, never letting us nail it down, because the truth we crave doesn’t exist. The river has no bed, the ocean no bottom, the sky no firmament. What we do then is agree on illusions till the next one comes along. My dog is frustrated because he can’t catch a fly that made it inside. The same with people trying to grasp the truth once and for all. Our job in that case is to accept and enjoy the ride. When that happens, perhaps my problem will be solved. Then I can make posts about something else.