In 'The Structure of Scientific Revolutions', the philosopher of science Thomas Kuhn observed that scientists spend long periods taking small steps. They pose and solve puzzles while collectively interpreting all data within a fixed worldview or theoretical framework, which Kuhn called a paradigm. Sooner or later, though, facts crop up that clash with the reigning paradigm. Crisis ensues. The scientists wring their hands, reexamine their assumptions and eventually make a revolutionary shift to a new paradigm, a radically different and truer understanding of nature. Then incremental progress resumes.

My background is without much hardship. Sure, like many in the southern U.S. I grew up poor and didn’t have whatever advantages money bears, but family was close enough to bridge the gap between absence and need. Mom did what she could. Besides, any difficulty I experienced was just the right motivation for me to plan my economic advancement: I think I succeeded there.

The family was religious, but I wouldn’t say they were spiritual. That juxtaposition might explain how I became an engineer based on only a fourth grade plan. Despite its reasonable nature, whatever mindset I had then was childishly narrow and didn’t change much until I graduated. I mean, what did I know?

Before then I was convinced — like most Westerners — that reality was based in logic and science. Since I rejected religion, it was no wonder I related better to the cause and effect of my education.

Yet, my interest was more than just a relationship to knowledge. I thought it could explain everything. Back then I rejected spirituality and I bore no respect at all for its acts, much less its past incarnations. To me cultures who worshiped anything irrational were only myths. I mean, what did they know.

Ironically, now I’m beginning to understand that, like this story, there is more to life than understanding.