I have to admit that apart from the debacle of human sacrifice, those scientifically challenged people’s actually did manage to highlight the fount of all life on Earth. That it isn’t sentient hardly seems to matter, and that there are millions of suns in the Universe doesn’t really matter either. Without it we have no life.
And I wonder at our relationship to warmth and cold. How we describe closeness and passion as warmth and distance as coldness. How we hunger for warmth and can be emotionally dysfunctional if we do not receive good parenting, and how dangerous people with inner coldness are to others. Not that too much passion isn’t capable of harm.
Many times we can see in our language and assumptions as to meaning, our natures, our innate characteristics, bubbling up to the fore. Showing us a map of who we actually are and where our thoughts actually come from. Some days the distant past, the hot, dusty and cold cheerless distant past in Africa, is right at my front door, tucked into my pockets as I walk out into the fields with my dogs and quietly worship a million unknowns.