Another drop-dead gorgeous sunrise on Harris Creek this morning. The geese have been huddled, waiting, and now seem relieved that it happened again. Jesus says, "I am in the world, but not of it." The geese are of the natural world; I am in it but not of it. The writer of words is unnatural.

The person is not identical with the four-dimensional body. You can't actually measure a face, that is, the measurements do not reveal the person. When I think about it, I find it extremely difficult to locate myself in this world in which I find myself. I am not inside my body, but neither am I outside it. Nevertheless, in my experience so far, we go everywhere together. The best idea that I can come up with is that myself and mybody are analogs.

The person is fantastic, made out of metaphors, not matter. The body that is of nature is a numerical construct, the person is a construct of words. Metaphors are not a by-product of mathematics, the person is not a by product of the brain. From the beginning, there are two bodies of language, which in the process of mutual incorporation, constitute the "experience of reality." As experience, the real and the fantastic are inseparable.