Our world is not made of atoms. It is built mostly from the stories we tell each other.
There once was a student of music who took up lessons and practiced rigorously for years. He became quite good, and had an opportunity to perform for a renowned master.
The master listened respectfully, smiled and after a time, he said, “something lacking.” The student was crestfallen. He grew despondent when nothing he played impressed the master. He left his home town and travelled the country for years. He eked out a living teaching beginners but fell on hard times.
Years later, he came back home and gave a performance for his friends. As he put down his instrument, he heard a voice from the back of the room. “Like a god!” said the old master.