My epitaph - "He was not sure..."

No doubt this sounds like something rather sad, and partly, I guess, it is, at least in its various reflections, consequences to many other, secondary things (that don't often feel so secondary). But fundamentally it's not: for I am passionately not sure, I am passionately rational and thus perpetually withholding final judgement. For there can't be, logically, any final judgements in this world, in this our local experience of being in the world. And thus I believe I really have remained true to myself, in a world where the overwhelming default experience is not to be. Sure, I still might have deceived myself, but even if so, I have deceived myself honestly. So, no, no regrets about this winding, narrow, dangerous path. The views are breathtaking still, well worth the effort.