SUNDAY, DECEMBER 14SAN DIEGO BAY AT SUNSET
At first glance, my photo du jour has nothing whatsoever to do with my journal writing today. I confess to trying hard on most days to coordinate them, but sometimes what I think and what I see don’t fit into any kind of pattern. Leaving Point Loma University this afternoon I drove down toward the bay as the sun was only half an hour from dropping into the sea, and I caught a glimpse of the city skyline. I drove quickly to the edge of the bay and got today’s picture.

A couple of other things were on my mind. I heard that President Bush on an unannounced visit to Baghdad had to duck behind a podium to avoid being hit by shoes thrown by a reporter. In the Arab world throwing a shoe is an supreme expression of distain. The courageous Iraqi who had thrown his shoes stood and shouted insults. He was quickly subdued and removed from the room.

Completely unrelated to the sunset or to the shoe throwing incident, I spent some time earlier in the day wondering how to answer a question about what it means to be human. Before I could begin to consider the “human” part of the question, I had to ask myself what “mean” means. Is it to understand? Is it to signify? To demonstrate? To intend? To convey? To know why? And what is human? Who and what are humans? Are the edges between humans and nonhumans blurred, or are the differences between them distinct and separate? When I determine that I will try very hard to “do unto others as I would have them do unto me,” who exactly are the others?

The sunset, the shoe throwing incident, and trying to decide what it means to be human seem disparate issues... but maybe not. I’ll reread John Updike’s “Pigeon Feathers” before I go to bed tonight.