Sometimes it seems that we idolize the material things in life that gives meaning to our existence. As an excuse for this misplace adulation of our "domains", we seem to attach them to the gods that we pray to. These gods are usually innocent bystanders.

The killing game has become so commonplace and a natural part of life, that we have established a complete semantic regimen around this activity so that we need not feel guilty about our direct involvement in it. We have given it a uniform and raison d'etre.

A short one.

A mother giving birth to her offspring is a very special and wondrous occasion – whether it is a human birth or one of the planets or many other wonderful species. Thereby I do not imply that the alternative reproduction methods of creatures like Amoeba - which simply split into manifold versions of themselves – or birds and reptiles - which reproduce by means of laying eggs - are any less wondrous. However, the process whereby a mother gives birth to a living, breathing baby seems to inspire the most awe with people.

Yet, to me the process of giving birth has always seemed to be a rather private affair; an intimate event especially between mother and the baby being born, as well as the husband and possibly the medical staff that are in assistance. The triumph of life entering the world, experienced and observed by a handful of entangled souls.

I could never understand why the depiction of the birthing process in movies and documentaries always left me with an uneasy feeling of disgust and a good degree of repulsion. Recent years has allowed me to think about my own unexplainable reaction that caused a good deal, of guilty feelings. Why would something so wonderful make me feel so uneasy.

Recently, it dawned on me that it is not the birthing process itself that I don't like, but the manner in which we, the spectators, are visually and aurally introduced to the process of a mother in her last moments of giving birth to her young. After the compulsory scenes of the mother's discomfort with the physical symptoms of a pregnancy reaching its term, the scene often shifts to the where the mother is rushed to an emergency room – panic, fear, flashes of the mother in pain, father in panic, medical personal shouting orders. The latter scene is not obligatory and may be skipped to where the mother is in labour. Usually much time is spent on the mothers suffering during the birthing process: nurses instructing on breathing, fear on the face of husbands, mother periodically and repeatedly in extreme pain caused by contractions and the descend of the baby. Screams, shouts, huffing and puffing, instructions, fear, the occasional threat of something possibly going wrong, flashings scenes, until, eventually, after an extended period of traumatisms, the baby is born. Unless it is an alien Sci-fi movie, the doctor (or alternatively, the father, policeman, midwife or other assorted deliverers), shouts: "It is a healthy baby boy/girl" and holds aloft a screaming bloodied baby (I believe in the movies it is usually a rubber replica.) The camera quickly shifts back to the face of the exhausted mother, smiling faintly with exhausted relief... the extended and detailed orgy of terror, pain, blood and emotions has come to an end.

Does it make sense to replace the concept of the ultimate unknown by a concept Caroline Myss calls 'the Truth'?

Often we create exactly those circumstances that we want to prevent - things weigh so heavily on our minds, that they are manifested by our fear of them.

A playful case of synchronicity?

We humans have a peculiar way of making ourselves feel more important than the next guy. It is purely synthetic and make-believe though, and the true distinctions of character seems to have little effecton social status. The social structures found in symphonic orchestra seems to be a good example of such constructs.

Uncertainty is a form of fear. No matter how confident we seem to the outside world, can we ever be certain of our convictions? Perhaps, playing it safe, is one way of covering all the bets.

How practical are the very popular depictions of heaven or paradise by some of our major religions? Aren't the popular promises of the hereafter not merely wishful thinking arising from an immediate need or longing for more pleasant conditions in life?

In our incessant search for scientific truths and applications, humans prove themselves often to be totally irrational and even wierd. Of course, our reasons are usually seemingly rational and normal.

Sometimes we have to learn the hard way. Was I being told something when we were burgled recently?