When most of your tomorrows are behind you, making sense of your life becomes more desperate. How to convey what you don't quite understand? Not in reduction, not in deduction, certainly not in subduction, but in their opposites: compilation and induction and unearthing, as conveyed by suggestion, implication, and innuendo; as observed by glimpses askance and the elevation of partial truths that may imply other partial truths, all we can catch with our wavering eyes.
What evanescent specks we are, we know; how much we have simply borrowed from others, we suspect. But even if we have rediscovered truths and simply applied them to new circumstances, they are ours, and we can convey them truthfully and righteously and with the conviction of having lived it, and we can only hope that others will make them theirs as well.