The music writes itself

Sometimes I think that those who do not believe in a hidden metaphysical reality are not so much less gullible–they are less suspicious. I do not believe in creationism or Intelligent Design, but there is something *shady* about biological evolution. Oh yes–Darwinian evolution is real. I have no doubt about that. But why is it real? It simply came about–and yes, there are enough iterations of random causation to explain much of it. But it does seem to have a direction in a rough general way. It’s wending somewhere. Along the way, it ruthlessly winnows, it flings failed species this way and that, with wild abandon. But it continues, in a rough way; it has guiding principles.

Consciousness itself makes me suspicious. I do not suggest that it is sinister. But matter becoming aware of itself is intrinsically miraculous, in some sense–not supernatural, not magical. No–instead it is awe inspiringly improbable, to such a grand extent that it makes me suspicious. Yet I am quite sure that no creator is necessary. Still, conditions are required for a seed to take root, to sprout. It needs water, soil, sun. Not a creator–but conditions.

It’s as if music is always playing and the music writes itself…

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