[Listen to an audio version of this blog here.]

Last Friday night I was waxing a wee bit existential and reading a book called: The Book of The World: A Contemporary Scripture. It is a weird and wild book, comprised entirely of quotes with an unknown author/origin. It was suitable for a stormy night, and as I read page after page of hashed together quotes I wrote in a margin: “everyone you meet is a version of yourself you didn’t…