For although nature might be finite, in the sense that it is quantifiable, categorical, and may be bounded in space and time, the pattern by which it allows itself to be known suggests layer upon layer of complexity and meaning, as if the substance of creation, while not rebuffing our attempts to disclose it, is metaphysically infinite, and not unlike an adult to an inquisitive child, unreadable and silent, but also tolerant and encouraging of our character, the exercise of which is meant not so much to bring us into some final mastery, or ease of living (though surely it can contribute to joy, and relieve suffering) but to provide traction in our quest for individual and collective peace.