I read the book by the guy who got a Nobel Prize for dscribing how the chemicals in the chemical soup that existed before life on Earth came together and made life.

There was much this book that I did not understand. But he understood; I could feel it. He wanted me to understand. He went to the trouble of writing a book for people in general that people in general could get something out of.

It took time.

That's what he said, for one thing.

Here were all the chemical that were the needed components of life. Floating and swirling on the surface of the planet, where we now life.

He showed, he knew, that with enough time, the right molecules would lock together, and there you have it--life.

I could feel how deeply he could feel the possiblities of atoms and molecules connected. I could feel how he could feel that finally they would. In a way, he was there at the moment the right molecules connected and became life, because he understood it so deeply.

Me, I sort of know that atoms act like they think it's nifty and neat to have eight electrons in their outer ring, which isn't really a ring. So they try to go for eight.

We have now about run out of my knowledge of the structure of chemistry.

But this man, with his love of how things happen physically, and with he love of people in general who were reading this book, brought me closer than made any sense to his sense of what the chemicals were that finally needed to float together in order that flowers might bloom and I might be in a Carnegie library thinking of connecting with you.

Time is a great gift. Maybe there is a giver; maybe not. Reasonable people may differ. The differing seems built in by the giver of everything or the randomness of everything.

The giver or randomness gave us great oceans of time. We are only here to love because the chemicals before life had unimaginable time. At our wisest we know that we need to keep floating in the soup we've been plopped in in our own particular way, and at our wisest we know there's no rush.