One gets to a stage where you realise that in knowing so much, you know so little and a lot of what you knew has slipped into some corner in your mind that is labelled forgotten.
One such is that after all these years I still have no idea if there is a creator. I argue why should there be and yet when I look around, there has to be. Where then is this entity?
I have to accept that time exists; have to live through it. It's not on my side. Like the fine sand in an hour glass it will one day release its final grain. It is not a friend.
So where does this entity 'live' within the confines of time?
I put forward the idea that it resides in a perpetual state of now, where everything that has ever happened is still happening.