How unbearably tragic that one who has made so many people laugh has taken himself away from the world.  We feel for Robin Williams, we feel for his family, we feel for the painful dilemma of humanness.  So much are we given, so much can we give, yet so much can we take away, lost forever.  We also feel for the planet, for the vast sweep of creation who remain, often joyous, often struggling, always looking for the way forward in a world that often seems to offer none.  Finitude tends to do this.  We confront our limits constantly.  And it's hard, terribly hard.  Existence is not futile, but it can certainly be empty, going nowhere, going somewhere, but often never to a home.
     Do we really live in a blank universe?