"Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves—goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I do is me: for that I came."
From As Kingfishers Catch Fire, lines 5-8, by GM Hopkins
I ask myself, what is the essence of this mortal thing here, this being, this self, dwelling in this frame, at this stage and age, and what to do, how to live to be what this self was made to be?
I guess we each in our own way ask the same...