( ….. )
Henry Lowell:
Yes, I resonate deeply with what you’ve shared… it’s so profound, concise, and relatable. I have a feeling that the person sitting across from me is not a renowned scientist, but more like a true cultivator, an Eastern practitioner… sharing about the Buddha Law, about spiritual cultivation.
I’m hesitating whether to let our readers continue to listen to you in this direction, or whether we should limit ourselves to the perspective of religion on empirical science…
Professor Adam:
(smiles, his gaze softening like a light mist touching the leaves of an early summer tree)
I understand your hesitation, Henry.
And honestly, I think it is a hesitation worthy of respect.
But to answer you… I would like to say this—not as a professor, or as someone who has stood before thousands of students.
But as a human being—who has traveled quite far with his intellect, only to have to return with his heart.
The separation between “science” and “religion,” or between “perspective” and “lived experience,” truly only exists in the classifications of humankind.
The universe does not distinguish whether you are asking from the position of a journalist, a practitioner, or a young reader sitting alone in the night.
The universe only responds to those who truly want to know—and are truly ready to listen.
So… if my words today carry the breath of the Buddha Law, of spiritual cultivation, or sound like the words of a “practitioner of the Way”…
then I will not deny it.
But I do not claim to be anything either.
I am simply recounting what I have seen—in a language that you and your readers can feel.
And if it can touch people’s hearts—even for a fleeting moment that makes them fall silent for a few seconds—
then I think… we should continue.
Not to persuade.
But to open another door—for those who have felt that something is real, but do not yet know what to call it.
But if you feel we should keep the pace at the level of “perspectives,” “comparisons,” and “critical thinking”…
I am still ready.
Because I believe that truth does not need to be rushed.
It only needs to be present—when a person is quiet enough to look back at themselves.
(The Professor gently lifts his teacup, but does not drink—he sets it down, as if to become even more still.)
So, Henry…
You can choose how to write this conversation to best suit your readers.
But I hope you will not write to please the majority.
Write so that one person, after reading… can place a hand on their chest and feel their heart grow still.
Henry Lowell:
Yes, Professor, I will continue then. I will temporarily stand in the shoes of a reader to ask this question: I see that science and technology are developing rapidly, bringing economic prosperity and improving living conditions for humanity.
Without science, perhaps we would still be traveling by horse-drawn carriage instead of cars, high-speed trains, or airplanes. Isn’t it a contradiction when you praise the “high-level science” in religion while downplaying empirical science?
Professor Adam:
(nods, his expression full of understanding, as if Henry had just touched upon a question that once resided within him)
This question… I have asked myself many times, Henry.
And I believe it will also be the question of many honest readers.
Because, just as you say—if not for science, we would not have electric light, antibiotics, satellites, airplanes, or the Internet.
These things are real.
And we should be grateful to experimental science for elevating the material standard of living for humanity.
(The Professor pauses for a moment, then his gaze shifts—not to negate, but to open up another layer of depth.)
But…
What I want to emphasize is not the “rejection of science,” but the repositioning of it within the total cognitive system of humankind.
Modern science—no matter how great—is still only studying matter at a surface level.
It sees the apple fall, and then discovers the law of gravity.
But… it does not see the heart of the person standing under the tree.
It can launch satellites into the sky, but it cannot explain why we shed tears when we look up at it.
When I say that religion—or more accurately, the Principles in religion—is a form of high-level science,
I am not denying the contributions of empirical science.
I only wish to say that:
Modern science is the science of “what can be measured.”
While the Principles are the science of “what can be touched, but cannot be measured.”
They are not contradictory.
They simply stand on two different levels.
And when human beings place them in their proper positions, they will complement each other—not negate each other.
An airplane can take you a thousand miles away.
But just one line of scripture—when the mind is still—can take you to another spatial plane without ever leaving your seat.
The question is:
Do we want to go further, or deeper?
And if possible—why not both?
Therefore, I am not downplaying experimental science.
I only worry that… in our infatuation with what can be measured, we have forgotten what can be felt—and what can guide us.
Henry Lowell:
Yes, from what you’ve said, I’m starting to picture it this way: the Principles of religion can encompass or contain empirical science; but conversely, empirical science cannot integrate with the Principles in religion, and is instead struggling and trying to reject them.
Professor Adam:
(his eyes narrow slightly, a faint smile crosses his face, not of ridicule, but like a silent nod of agreement)
Henry… you are right.
You have expressed it very accurately—with an image that is almost perfectly complete.
The Principles in religion, if they truly come from a higher level—as transmitted by Buddha, the Lord, or the Taoist masters of ancient wisdom traditions—
then they form a system that encompasses all the operating laws of the universe, both visible and invisible.
This means: every scientific law that humanity has ever discovered—lies within those Principles.
It is like a third-grade child discovering that “even numbers are divisible by 2.”
To him, it is a great discovery. But to the one who wrote the system of mathematics, it is just a small line in a grand program.
(The Professor slowly lifts his teacup, takes a small sip, and then sets it down with a soft click, like a beat of contemplation coming to a pause.)
But the reverse is not true.
Empirical science, with all its glory and confidence, cannot embrace the Principles.
Because modern science only accepts what can be measured, tested, and replicated.
Whereas the Principles of religion operate through benevolence, the level of one’s heart-mind, resonance, and the sympathetic vibration of the spiritual energy field—things that science has not yet been able to define, let alone verify.
And precisely because it cannot understand, modern science begins to reject.
Not because it is intentionally arrogant.
But because… it is limited by the very framework of thought it created.
When something exceeds its ability to verify, the academic world often uses two words: “superstition” or “unscientific.”
But think about it:
If a fish has never risen above the water’s surface, how can it define the wind?
It would call the wind a delusion.
But the wind is still real—and is blowing every day.
So… just as you said:
The Principles can embrace science. But science—if it does not elevate its own level of perception—cannot yet integrate with the Principles.
But I am not pessimistic.
Because there are young scientists—I know of them—who are beginning to step out of the laboratory, and are quietly kneeling at the margins of life, asking the questions that science cannot answer.
And I believe…
it is they—those who possess both intellect and a humble heart—who will be the bridge between the two worlds.
Henry Lowell:
Science is purely oriented toward matter, while religion, in addition to matter, also speaks of the “soul” or the “primordial spirit.” Science cannot explain the soul; but conversely, how does religion explain matter? For example, science considers matter to be composed of elements from the periodic table, while religion speaks of the concept of the “Five Elements.” How would you explain this in a way that is easy for readers to understand? Are there any contradictions or points of unity between them?
Professor Adam:
(tilts his head, his eyes glinting with deep thought, but his voice remains gentle and approachable)
That is a very good question, Henry.
Because it touches upon a point that few people notice: religion does not only speak of the soul—it also has its own way of looking at matter.
And the interesting thing is—although the two frames of reference sound very different, at a deep level, I find they are talking about the same thing—just in a different language.
Modern science, especially chemistry and physics, explains matter through fundamental elements—the ones we know from the periodic table.
Carbon, Hydrogen, Oxygen, Iron, Copper…
All of these constitute the physical world we live in.
But in religion—or more accurately, in ancient Eastern philosophical systems like Taoism, Buddhism (Esoteric school), or traditional medicine, matter is described according to the principle of the Five Elements:
Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, and Earth.
(The Professor leans forward slightly, as if to peel back a layer of metaphorical imagery to clarify.)
But what needs to be understood is this:
The Five Elements are not purely “physical matter.”
They are symbols for five fundamental types of energy—five “constituent properties” of the material world and the microcosmic world.
For example:
– “Fire” is not just fire, but represents the properties of heat, movement, rising, and advancing.
– “Water” is not just water, but the properties of softness, flexibility, penetration, and tranquility.
– “Metal” is not just metal, but the properties of hardness, sharpness, contraction, and purification…
In other words, the Five Elements are a principle of harmony and regulation—not a table for classifying molecules.
And the periodic table?
It is a system that describes the arrangement of matter at the microscopic level—very accurate on this spatial plane.
But it cannot answer:
– Why do these elements operate in harmony with one another?
– Why does the human body fall ill when it is out of balance, even though all the elements are still present?
(The Professor smiles, placing his hand on the table as gently as a passing breeze.)
Religion, the Five Elements, and ancient medicine, on the other hand, answer from a different perspective:
Matter is only the manifestation. The deeper part is qi—it is frequency—it is thought.
The Primordial Spirit—or the soul—is the “vibrating subject” that stands behind the physical body.
If the Primordial Spirit is misaligned, the qi will be incorrect, and even if the cells are undamaged, the person will still fall ill.
This is something modern science has not yet touched.
So, to answer you:
There is no contradiction. Only a difference in the level of observation.
Science uses a microscope to look at a cell.
Religion uses a still mind to look at the connection between thought and phenomenon.
When we understand that both are talking about the same universe—but from two sides of a mirror…
then we will stop rejecting—and start connecting.
Henry Lowell:
Yes, let me raise a specific point: science perceives matter as being composed of atoms, which in turn are composed of an atomic nucleus and orbiting electrons. The nucleus is then composed of protons and neutrons… And from there, neutrons and protons are transformed from even smaller particles called quarks. The quarks are bound together by the strong interaction force within a composite hadron, called a Baryon…
So, what is the perspective of the Principles in religion on this? I remember reading in a book that Shakyamuni Buddha taught that within a single grain of sand, there are “three thousand great-thousand worlds.” From the perspective of empirical science, isn’t that too mystical?
Professor Adam:
(after listening, he is silent for a few seconds—not from hesitation, but as if to allow a space of stillness for the profound point that has just been raised)
Henry… this question may seem to belong to physics, but it actually touches upon the fundamental plane of perception.
Because: in going from quarks—to baryons—to atoms—to visible matter, science has opened up an astonishing journey of peeling back the layers of matter.
But the deeper one goes… the more one discovers:
The smaller it gets—the harder it is to define.
The more fundamental it is—the harder it is to verify.
And then, there comes a point where quantum physicists have to admit:
“Reality is not entirely matter, but is partly probability.”
And it is precisely there—at the very point where modern science sees “a blur”—
that the Principles of religion become… luminous.
(The Professor leans forward, his voice still gentle but with a hint of excitement, as if he has just been invited into a deep region he has long wanted to share.)
The Buddha once said:
“In a grain of sand, there are three thousand great-thousand worlds.”
To an ordinary person, that is a poetic image, perhaps an allegory.
But to a true cultivator—it is a literal truth.
Buddha did not say this to impress.
He said it because he had seen it—with a level of perception that transcends physics.
A grain of sand—to the ordinary eye—is just a silica structure.
But to a person with an opened Celestial Eye or awakened spirituality, it is a spatial system—with levels, with beings, with movement—and with stillness.
It does not “contain” a world.
It “is” a world—on another level.
And what about science?
As you mentioned:
Nucleus → proton + neutron → quark → standard model → gluon → quantum field…
The deeper one goes, the more one sees that matter is not “something with an edge,” but a state—a vibration—a temporary manifestation.
Modern physics speaks of “virtual particles,” “wave functions,” “vacuum fluctuations”…
All of these are approaching something that the Buddha Law taught thousands of years ago:
“Form is born from the mind.
The environment changes with the mind.”
(The Professor pauses, looking directly at Henry—not to emphasize, but as if inviting him to a larger round table of thought.)
So, if someone asks:
“To say there are three thousand great-thousand worlds in a grain of sand—isn’t that too mystical?”
I would ask in return:
“When a physicist says a single quark exists in multiple states simultaneously—do you not find that mystical as well?”
Reality—whether of science or of religion—has never been a flat plane.
The only difference is:
– Science uses equipment to go inward.
– Religion uses cultivation to go through.
Henry Lowell:
Yes, I realize that what we are discussing also touches upon a concept, or perhaps a conundrum, in materialist philosophy: does matter precede consciousness, or does consciousness precede matter? Does matter determine consciousness, or the other way around? What is your perspective when viewed from the frame of reference of the Principles in religion? I once heard a Great Master say that, “matter and consciousness are of one nature,” meaning they are a unified, inseparable whole…
Professor Adam:
(nods slightly, his gaze seeming to deepen another layer—no longer the look of a researcher, but of someone who has personally walked through that very question)
Yes… that is not just a philosophical question.
It is the root question of the entire human cognitive system.
In materialist philosophy, they say:
Matter comes first, and consciousness is a reflection of matter.
They draw evidence from evolution, from the activity of the brain, from bio-electric signals, from human reflexes to stimuli.
And I do not deny—at a low level, that is true.
But it is only true within the frame of reference of the tangible, material plane.
But when we step out of that system—as I have had the chance to touch upon through deep meditation, through the Celestial Eye, through experiences not of a biological nature…
I realize:
Matter does not give birth to consciousness.
Nor does consciousness create matter.
Rather, both—are two simultaneous faces of a deeper entity.
(The Professor tilts his head slightly, his hand gently turning his teacup without drinking—as if invoking a concept not easily expressed in ordinary words.)
In some high-level religious or Law-Principle systems—like Taoism, Buddhism, and even some Esoteric schools—they call this:
“Oneness.”
Meaning: matter and consciousness are not two separate entities, but a unified whole—only manifesting differently according to the spatial plane.
At a low level—it manifests as “matter first, consciousness second.”
At a middle level—we see “interaction.”
But at a high level—matter itself is a form of manifestation of a plane of thought.
When Buddha said:
“Form is born from the mind, the environment changes with the mind”—that was not a moral metaphor.
It is a law of the universe—expressed in the language of his time.
It is like when you dream—everything in the dream is material: houses, faces, sounds.
But when you awaken, you realize they were all born from consciousness.
And if a dream is created by consciousness, then who can be sure that we are not living in a deeper level of consciousness—where our current matter is also just a temporary manifestation of a higher-level thought?
So…
If you ask me, after all that I once believed—and all that I have now seen:
Matter and consciousness—neither gives birth to the other.
They are two mirrors reflecting each other in a multi-dimensional space.
And when you are still enough,
you will see where they both converge—which is the true self of a being.
Henry Lowell:
Yes, if we look from the frame of reference of the Principles in religion, then the foundational arguments of materialist philosophy would seem to need to be rewritten or even abandoned, wouldn’t they?! … And I’m suddenly reminded of the connection between philosophy, physics, and biology.
arwin’s theory of evolution posits that organic molecules form single-celled organisms, then multi-celled ones, which then evolve into microorganisms, then into aquatic life, then develop into amphibians, then advance to apes, and finally, from apes evolve into humans…
But from what I’ve read in the Principles of various religions, they do not say the same… What is your perspective on this?
Professor Adam:
(leans back slightly, his eyes shining with a deep contemplation, as if Henry had just touched upon a question that had kept him awake for many years)
Henry…
If I were to answer this question according to what I once believed, I would say:
“The theory of evolution is the unshakable pillar of modern biology.”
But if I am to answer according to what I have seen—since stepping out of that old frame of reference, then…
I no longer believe in the story of “apes evolving into humans.”
(He pauses for a moment, as if to let the silence establish the position of what is about to be said.)
I do not deny the evidence that Darwin and the scientists after him observed:
– the changes in morphology over time,
– the adaptation to the environment,
– the genetic changes at the cellular level.
But I have come to realize one thing very clearly:
All of those observations only prove variation and adaptation—they are not a sufficient basis to affirm the origin of humanity.
The core of the issue lies here:
Materialist science tries to trace the source of life from the bottom up—from chemistry to biology, from matter to consciousness.
But… I have seen the opposite:
Life is a pre-existing plane of thought. And the physical body is merely the corresponding manifestation of that plane of thought—within a specific dimension.
To put it simply:
Humans did not evolve from apes.
Rather, human beings—with a higher level of consciousness—were once created in a different way.
In some ancient religious or Law-Principle systems that I have read—or heard directly from cultivated beings with a high level of sensory perception—they say:
“Human beings were created by higher-level beings.”
Creation here is not the “molding from clay” of fairy tales.
But the arrangement of subtle structures in an intelligent sequence—so as to be compatible with the primordial spirit that the universe allows to exist on the human plane.
A human being—to be more precise—is a system of both body and spirit.
And the existence of the human race is not random—it is purposeful.
(The Professor looks directly at Henry, his gaze this time as still and clear as a mirror free of mist.)
Therefore…
If materialist science wishes to retain the theory of evolution as a part of biological adaptation—I do not object.
But if they insist on saying:
“Human beings are the random product of molecules and natural selection”—
then I must respectfully disagree.
Not because I am a religious person.
But because I am someone who once believed in evolution—until I saw…
life does not ascend from the earth.
It descends—from the primordial thought of the universe.
Henry Lowell:
Yes, hearing you share this reminds me of how scientists today are trying to find the origin of life, and one of the paths they are taking is to hypothesize that life came from the cosmos in the form of bacteria attached to meteorites. In religion, however, they believe that man was created by God in Western culture, or by Gods and Buddhas in Eastern culture, from “mud and soil.”
Speaking of mud and soil, I am reminded of the words of a Great Master who once taught that the concept of “mud and soil” in the frame of reference of a God is not the mud and soil as humans understand it on this material plane. That is, the “mud and soil” that a God speaks of may be a form of impure matter from a God’s perspective, but to humanity, it could be a substance purer and more precious than gold…
Professor Adam:
(his eyes light up, but this time not because his intellect is satisfied—but because some deep emotion has just been touched)
Henry…
The story you just mentioned—about “mud and soil”—I once heard a high monk from the East explain it in a very similar way.
And to be honest, it left me silent for a long time.
Because, within the very way you posed the question, lies something that very few scientists dare to admit:
The plane of reference is what determines the value of matter.
What humans call “noble” might just be trash at a higher level.
What we consider “pure” may still be full of worldly dust in another realm.
So when the Bible says “God formed man from the dust of the ground”
or when Eastern legends say “Gods created man from mud and soil”…
it should not be understood in the three-dimensional physical sense of the human plane.
That “mud and soil”—just as you said—is merely a symbolic concept, or one referenced from a higher plane of consciousness.
In the eyes of a God, “mud and soil” could be the material structural particles with a vibrational frequency lower than the minimum required to enter the celestial realms.
But in the eyes of humans, that matter—could even be the purest element in a laboratory, or even solid gold.
(The Professor’s voice deepens, his gaze fixed on the horizon beyond the hills.)
This is precisely where modern science lacks the vocabulary to describe.
When they study life, they search for bacteria on meteorites.
When they discuss the origin, they look to the Big Bang.
But they do not ask a deeper question:
“Who placed that meteorite in the right place so it could fall on the right planet?”
“Who set the conditions for carbon to combine into life?”
And if life comes from a higher plane—as religions have always said—
then that matter cannot be analyzed by the equipment on this plane.
I once spoke with a Chinese monk—over 80 years old, living deep in the mountains.
He told me:
“If you could see the matter in a higher spatial plane,
you would know:
gold and silver in the human world are the mud and soil of heaven.
And morality in the human world today… is worth less than the dust and ash of heaven yesterday.”
After hearing that… I did not argue.
I just bowed my head.
Because, I knew…
Those were not just words—but the crystallization of what he had seen.
So, Henry…
If we truly want to find the origin of life,
perhaps we must begin not with where it came from,
but with who allowed it to come.
And that “mud and soil,” when viewed from the plane of Gods,
is precisely what is refined between Heaven and Earth—so that a human life can reside there and cultivate back to its original realm.
Henry Lowell:
Yes, personally, although I am not a religious believer, I lean more toward the perspective of religion than that of science. For example, as I just mentioned, scientists hypothesize that the origin of life came from meteorites… but as we all know, when a meteorite enters the Earth’s atmosphere at high speed, the friction with the air causes it to melt and explode.
So, what form of life could survive such high temperatures?
Professor Adam:
(nods slightly, offering a small smile—not to refute, but as if to welcome an exceptionally sharp question that many tend to avoid)
Henry… your question may sound simple, but it actually hits the blind spot of one of the most common hypotheses in modern astrobiology.
That’s right—the hypothesis that meteorites brought the seeds of life to Earth, also known as panspermia, was once proposed as a way to explain the “strange leap” from inorganic matter to living organic molecules.
But then… when people look at it more closely, a question like yours becomes a silent wall:
“If a meteorite enters the atmosphere at tens of kilometers per second, generating friction of thousands of degrees Celsius—then what is that ‘primordial life’ made of that it isn’t destroyed?”
And if it were hidden deep inside the rocky core?
Then how would it escape and reactivate in the atmospheric and geobiological conditions of the early Earth—which was still full of toxic gases and extreme temperature fluctuations?
(The Professor gazes into the distance—as if retracing the chain of logic he himself once believed in.)
The deeper we go, the more we see:
That hypothesis does not explain the “origin of life,” it only pushes the question further away:
“So where did life begin… before it got on the meteorite?”
If life could not form on its own on Earth, and could not form on a meteorite…
then the only logical conclusion is: it was bestowed—or structured from another spatial plane.
And this is where the Principles of religion begin to seem… logical—when science falls silent.
In many religious systems—from Buddhism to ancient Judaism, from Hinduism to Tibetan Esotericism—
life has always been seen as a kind of sacred structure, one that was “imparted,” not one that “arose” randomly.
They speak of “qi,” “primordial spirit,” “divine light,” “divine nature”—things that cannot be separated from life, and cannot be measured in a test tube.
So, Henry…
If science continues to search for life as it searches for molecules,
it will always go in circles in a dead end.
But if one day, they dare to ask the question:
“What is life, as something higher than matter?”
Then perhaps,
the answer will not come from a meteorite—but from a spatial plane that has always been right beside us, only we have not been still enough to open the door and step in.
Henry Lowell:
Yes, regarding the question, “What is life, as something higher than matter?” I understand you to be implying that behind matter, there is “consciousness” in the common sense, or “soul” in the ancient, folkloric sense. Is that correct?
But there is another hypothesis. In our previous session, you spoke of extraterrestrials and other dimensions… so could there also be a hypothesis that life on Earth was brought here by extraterrestrials?
Professor Adam:
(nods slightly, a faint smile on his face, as if hearing the right “frequency” in the question)
Yes…
You understand correctly.
When I say, “Life is something higher than matter,” I am not speaking of a more intelligent molecule.
I mean to imply that:
Behind all objects, all living cells, all biological phenomena… there always exists a field of thought—a form of “spirituality”—that in common parlance is called the “soul,” and in a higher-level scientific system might be called “primordial consciousness.”
The problem is:
Modern science can measure matter.
But it is powerless before something it cannot grasp—which is life that has a “self.”
A simple example:
– You can dissect a person’s brain.
– You can measure brainwaves, reflexes, neurotransmitters.
But…
You cannot point to where the “thought of wanting to forgive” is located in the brain.
That is to say, what makes one “human” is not in the physical structure.
As for the hypothesis: “Life came from extraterrestrials”—
In truth, that hypothesis still lies within the frame of reference of matter.
It only shifts the origin of life from Earth → Planet X.
But it does not explain the essence of life.
It only re-asks the question:
“So who created life on Planet X?
And where did they get life from?”
It is a causal loop pushed farther away, but unresolved.
(The Professor raises an eyebrow slightly, his gaze seeming to pierce through the air to touch a deeper layer of meaning in the question.)
However…
I do not deny that some extraterrestrial beings have interfered in the biological processes on Earth.
Certain archaeological, genetic, and even ancient cultural traces all contain vague—but consistent—signs of a presence and impact that was “not native to humanity” from tens of thousands of years ago.
Perhaps they “added to” or “rearranged” a part of the matter—
But I am certain of this:
They could not create the soul.
Because the soul—or the primordial spirit—cannot be manufactured.
It must be bestowed from a higher plane.
Henry Lowell:
Yes, as you’ve said, whether extraterrestrials exist or not, there is still one thing left unexplained—the nature of the soul or consciousness.
So, in your opinion, is modern humanity—with all its remarkable advancements in science and technology—losing something? Or to put it another way: is it possible that humanity’s own intelligence is limiting its ability to perceive something greater?
Professor Adam:
(does not answer immediately, but just looks at Henry for a moment—his gaze not heavy, but carrying a thin mist of quiet regret)
Henry…
I think that question should be written on the blackboard of every technical university in the world.
And there is no need to answer it quickly.
It is enough for every student to see it each day, in silence.
Yes—I believe that modern humanity is losing something very important.
Not morality (though it is true there has been some decline).
Not simplicity (though the world is growing more complex).
But… the ability to feel what is beyond the limits of one’s own perception.
People today know many things.
– They know how to split genes.
– How to send robots to Mars.
– How to simulate the universe with algorithms.
But at the same time…
they have begun to shy away from admitting what they do not know.
And it is right there that knowledge turns into arrogance.
(The Professor takes a soft breath, as if to keep his emotions from overwhelming the calm he always maintains.)
I am not saying that intelligence is bad.
But intelligence without humility can easily become a barrier—preventing one from feeling the subtle signals from a greater reality.
When people believe that “if it cannot be measured, it does not exist,”
they are also locking themselves in a very beautiful—and very tight—cage.
And then, they stick the label “science” on that iron frame,
without knowing that… on the outside, the wind still blows.
Perhaps it is easier to understand this way:
A 7-year-old child sees the rain and might feel sad—without knowing why.
While an adult engineer can calculate the exact amount of rainfall per minute—but feels nothing.
So who lives closer to reality?
Sometimes… it is precisely this “excessive intelligence” that prevents modern humans from seeing what is very real.
And the price to pay is:
– They live more—but feel less.
– Know more—but understand less.
– Explore outer space—but close off inner depth.
I am not against technology.
But I hope the younger generation will not let the skill of analysis kill the capacity for feeling.
Because it is very possible… that the truth we are searching for lies not in a formula,
but in a moment of silence—when intellect knows to pause to make way for something greater.
Henry Lowell:
Yes, from what I’ve read before, and through what you’ve shared, I’m getting the sense that humanity is being dazzled by the progress of science, which is causing us to go in the wrong direction. If so, where will the future of science lead if it continues on its current path? And if a change is desired, do they need to change their frame of reference?
And on another note, does the younger generation in general, and young scientists in particular, need guidance from the older generation?
I would very much like to hear you share more… but perhaps our time for today has grown long. Would you agree to take a break and we continue tomorrow morning?
Professor Adam:
(nods, his expression now holding not just his usual calmness, but also a faint smile tinged with deep empathy)
Yes, Henry…
I agree with how you feel—and also with how you have chosen to pause.
Because sometimes, a well-timed silence is more precious than a thousand more questions.
This morning—if I may say so—has not been an “interview,”
but a shared path for two people traveling against the current of reason to touch something very ancient—and very real.
You have asked questions that few in the press—and even in academia—dare to touch.
And I believe:
There will be a reader—even just one—who reads these lines and falls silent,
because they see that what they could not name before has now taken form.
(The Professor stands up, taking a few steps toward the porch. The sun has risen higher, casting its light down on the valley in the distance, where thin clouds are drifting lazily.)
Tomorrow…
If you return,
I will be ready to share about what you just mentioned:
What future is there for science?
And will the young generation—if given a chance to change their frame of reference—
choose to proceed with intellect… or with heart?
I have no ambition to provide direction.
But I have a few things that…
if I do not say them before I depart,
then perhaps I will not have fulfilled the final role of a man who once believed he knew everything.
Until tomorrow morning, Henry.
And if we are fortunate…
we will speak not only of science,
but of how to return to being human—in a more complete way.
Henry Lowell:
Yes, thank you, Professor. I will see you tomorrow!
Professor Adam:
It is my pleasure, Henry.
I—in my role as a fellow traveler in this story—will be ready and waiting for your return tomorrow morning.
(…..)
This article is an excerpt from the book “SUNSET AND SUNRISE OF SCIENCE” – a vision that transcends conventional dialectical thinking to embrace revelations from God.
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