And God said,
"Let us make man in our image,
After our likeness."         Genesis 1:26

It is a wonder-filled experience to deliver a baby. At first there is a limp, seemingly lifeless form. Then, with the first breath, comes animation! What happens in that moment? What is the nature of this sudden change? From where did this life energy come? Our human minds are quite incapable of comprehending the source of life or life as a whole. Of necessity we look at its various dimensions from different perspectives, depending very much upon our background and training.

According to Albert Einstein, every energy system in the universe is a localized condensation of energy of specific form, linked to every other by the psi factor in a unified field.

Even a human being is made up of an extremely complex series of interrelating energies. This is indeed an energy universe. As we establish a living, daily relationship with it, it becomes a constant source for renewing our own energies.

It has been estimated that there are approximately five octillion atoms in the human body and approximately a quadrillion cells. These figures boggle the imagination. To make them a little more comprehensible, imagine each atom to be the size of a pea. Five octillion peas would stand four feet deep over the entire face of the earth, and over 1,250,000 other planets of equal size.1 A calculation shows that if the cells in one body also were the size of peas, they would fill all the buildings in the city of Philadelphia from cellar to roof.

There are certain things we must take on faith if we truly want to progress along the path of life. The most important of these things cannot be written; they can only be experienced. I know that a perfect sunset drives deeply into my soul, but anything I might say about it cannot possibly convey completely to anyone what I feel. I have never composed a piece of music in my life, but my life is richer for my exposure to the inspiration of such musicians as Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms. I know I have gathered a certain strength after listening and entering into the musical experience of Bach's Toccata and Fugue in D Minor or Beethoven's Ninth Symphony.

Many psychiatrists are of the opinion that they must be quite uninvolved with the consciousness of their patient. The effectiveness of this approach is open to question.

A retired musician came into my office quite irate that on the top of the medical history questionnaire, he had been asked to specify his religious faith. He informed my secretary that it was none of my business, that his chief complaint was insomnia-and what did that have to do with religion? He told me that as soon as his head hit the pillow at night he would be wide awake.

It seemed very possible to me that, unconsciously, he identified sleep with death. Now retired, and with no real outlets, he was frightened. I asked him if, in his career as a violinist, he had any favorite composers.
"Most assuredly," he said. "Mozart and Brahms have a special meaning to me."
"Isn't that something of a religion to you?" I asked.
"Oh, yes," was the reply.

With this as an opening we had meaningful discussions about ways to get back into his creative life. He clearly had great need to reestablish his roots in the universe, and it is doubtful that the prescription of a sleeping pill would have done the same thing for him.

When we limit ourselves to the outer shell of life and its processes, we miss the very center where these processes originate. There is much evidence that science now is attempting to penetrate these depths, and let us hope that medicine will follow.