Some ice is like clouds. You see what you want. I am always seeing things in ice. In this case, a rabbit, a jellyfish, and Popeye. Why does my mind make meaning of randomness? I resist most stories, because I know they are all about meaning, which is a way of interpreting our lives as significant, when my soul thinks that our lives just are. We just are: Nothing to do and nothing to undo. And I resist stories because I know how narratives can stick hard and fast in a person’s life, giving us every reason to be a victim, a hero, a saviour, a loser, a this or a that. Meaning and identity – they’re intertwined. Better to remember there is no self, just molecules and air. And a lot of water.