Took him awhile to discover that the world is not a fact, it’s an experience. We cannot explain what rough is, or smooth, or sadness is, or happiness, or the way the wind feels. We have man made words for them. But there is a gap somewhere. An empty space between our words and how something feels. That empty space is filled with some divine presence.
Maybe a divine presence of some categorical love that moves in all things.
What if energy, that divine force which we cannot explain, is fueled by it.