The Notebook

I thought it would be fun to share a photo of the notebook I started writing in that spring afternoon at Siena. Class had just finished and as I walked across campus, I had a deep insight into the fullness of the natural world. It amazed me. I saw myself as part of it. Back in my dorm room, I opened a small notebook and wrote about what I thought and felt. Decades later, this memory still touches me, and the notebook is still with me today.

From Natural Wonders pages 3-5:

I found a quiet place, looked around to be sure no one could read over my shoulder, and I opened a blank notebook. It was an undersized, spiral-bound notebook, comfortable, concealable.

From time to time, I wrote letters to my friends and family. I could bang out a term paper when I needed to, but writing philosophical or religious ideas, particularly doing so outside my coursework, was a new activity. Nervously, I turned to the first lined page and touched pen to paper. Before I knew it, words were flowing.

It was nature that came to mind first. The boundless and beautiful natural world touched me on my walk. That experience contrasted directly with the intellectual ideas of God that we read about and discussed in class. Leaning toward the natural, I wrote, “Maybe there is no supernatural.” I asked, “How do we say there is a supernatural, or something beyond natural, when we do not know nature’s limits? We don’t know what, if anything, is beyond nature. What is it precisely that nature can’t do?”

Writing my own philosophical views that day was a big step for me. I started genuinely thinking for myself about these topics.