Staring through the window into the darkness I felt at peace. The headlights of oncoming traffic lit up the the road and it's immediate surroundings; the stark contrast of black on white - rocks and pine trees jutting out of the snow. Despite their cold and hostile appearance my surroundings warmed me - I was home. As the bus drove through the falling snow I was left thinking of how everything seems to become grey as one grows older; very few things are black and white. If you asked me where home is, I'd probably say something about it being complicated, or give a simple half-truth for an answer. Most things are in fact only true to a certain extent. Science prides itself in being objective; although I could give quite a few examples, from the last few months, of my encounters with the subjectivity of science. I have lost count of the number of scientific truths I've learned, only to be told later that they in fact were gross oversimplifications. Truth is complex, it isn't simple, it still amazes me how difficult science students find defining the most basic consepts. Sure, we may be able to use laws and theories in order to perform calculations, or explain phenomena, but do we really understand them? Religious truth is no different, although there may be less calculations involved...
It is as if learning more is synonymous with the realisation that you in fact know less. Clear-cut truths are oversimplifications. Models and comparisons are great for explaining; any decent teacher uses them, but they all have their limitations. Although a fuller understanding reveals detail, and satisfies the intellect by connecing pieces one had never thought fit; it can also detract from the beauty of simple truth.
Complexity can be both beautiful and frustrating...
...as the double-decker negotiated the streets of london, I looked out through the window and felt content - I was home...
