This piece is not a scientific argument, and it is not an attempt to persuade anyone of anything. I am not offering evidence, proofs, or conclusions that demand agreement. What follows is something much simpler and more personal: an attempt to answer a question I have been asked repeatedly, and one that I have also asked myself.
People often assume that because my work is grounded in science, my thoughts about God must either take the form of a scientific position or be dismissed as irrelevant. Neither feels right to me. Some questions do not yield to measurement or experiment, but they do not therefore disappear. They persist, quietly, shaping how we understand meaning, responsibility, loss, and our place in the world.
I felt compelled to write this not because I believe I have special insight, but because clarity matters. Over time, I realized that when I was asked whether I “believe in God,” I could not give an honest answer without first explaining what I meant by the word itself. The ideas gathered here are my best attempt to do that — shaped by physics, by grief, by lived experience, and by long reflection.
This is not doctrine. It is not instruction. It is simply a personal piece, offered in the hope that careful thought — even when it does not resolve everything — is better than silence or borrowed certainty.