People sometimes like to write down where they are, or at what station they have arrived.
There’s a tendency I notice in myself to set down a sort of marker, as in,
Where was he, really, in July of 2011?

“My Sharona” is “My (Little) Confession”:
Where have two years in the desert — for that’s how I have conceived them — gotten me?
Is there a short version of the things I have begun to learn?

“Where is he now in relation to where he was?”

There are three convictions really, two related to an enduring reality and one concerning an experience that ends at death. Have I over-emphasized the third, especially since it ends at death? Well, if you’re reading this, you’re alive. And it sure applies to you and me still, and hasn’t loosened its hold!
(No matter what Socrates said.)
The other two transcend death. The second survives it.

Anyway, you’ll see. I think I got The Knack.

Listen here.