She goes on now, through a tremendous effort, I return to the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, borrowing the tuition, arranging to help with the housework and care of children in a home about three miles from the campus, in return for my room and board, and at the same time, taking a nearly full class load. Okay, so she still had to have a side job in order to make this work, this busy schedule of homework and class work was all on the surface, however, because underneath walking back and forth to campus, doing my chores, I became increasingly preoccupied with pursuing my doubts to their limits. During the following year or more, with a desperate intensity, I read from the works of most of the leading Western philosophers from Plato to Spinoza, Hume, Berkeley and on to Kant Hegel, Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, Bradley, Kierkegaard, Bergson, Wittgenstein and others. Yes, fascinating as much of it was, it all seemed fragmented and one sided. Nothing satisfied me. Nothing went to the root of my need. I seem to be moving in endless theoretical and verbal circles, chasing a mirage of ultimate finality. At times, I had periods of Bleak despair, feeling my quest was hopeless. I