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answer.
    Tagore suggested the answer is “no” when the two met on July 14, 1930 at Einstein’s home on the outskirts of Berlin, thought to be one of the most stimulating, intellectually riveting conversations in history, exploring the gap between the mind and the soul. The encounter was recorded.
    â€œIf there be some truth which has no sensuous or rational relation to the human mind, it will ever remain as nothing so long as we remain as human beings,” Tagore told Einstein.
    Replied Einstein bluntly, “Then I am more religious than you are!”
    Out of the mouth of babes, six years later, a Manhattan sixth grader named Phyllis pursued the answer further after a question was posed in her Sunday School class on the truth between science and belief in God—the dividing line between the brain and the soul. Moved by the query, Phyllis wrote Einstein, and he replied candidly: “Everyone who is seriously involved in the pursuit of science becomes convinced that some spirit is manifestin the laws of the universe, one that is vastly superior to that of man.”
    Einstein later said, “Before God we are all equally wise—and equally foolish.”

    Î» Alzheimer’s Association Alzheimer’s Disease Facts and Figures.
    Accessed December 15, 2013. http://www.alz.org/alzheimers_disease_facts_and_fgures.asp

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    H ELL N O!
    T HE JOURNEY THROUGH ALZHEIMER’S IS A MARATHON , if one chooses to run it. It is exhausting, fully fatiguing, just staying in the moment and fighting to remember like an elephant, the largest land animal on Earth.
    Elephants are my favorite. They have documented long-term memory, coveted today by Boomers. On a shelf in my office is a small ceramic elephant holding a fishing pole. I purchased it years ago from a gallery in Santa Fe, a cerebral place of awe-inspiring natural light. The ceramic serves to remind me daily of the need for retention and focus. The artwork has a place of prominence: It is the elephant in the room.
    The word “dementia” is onomatopoeia for many, a word that conjures up a sound—in this case, a howl in the night or biblical imageries of a demonic maniac, a portrait no one wants to own.Dementia is derived from the Latin root word for madness, “out of one’s mind,” an irreversible cognitive dysfunction, a walking nightmare in which you can’t escape the bogeyman no matter how fast you run. Alzheimer’s is a marathon against time, and so I keep running to outpace this disease that ultimately will overtake me.
    Symbolic of the race, I run three to four miles a day, some of them at a pace of five- to six-minute miles on a treadmill, not bad for a man in his seventh decade. The rage within drives me to outrun the disease, but the sprinting will not halt the advance of ongoing memory loss, poor judgment, loss of self and problem solving, confusion with time, place, and words, withdrawal, abrupt changes in mood, and yes, the flat out, earsplitting rage.
    Words are the core of my life, and they are now lost on me at times. I often transpose words in what some medical professionals call an “attentional dyslexia.” Public restrooms can be a problem. I look for the word “men,” but at times, delete other letters around it, entering on occasion the “wo-men’s” room, like a deer caught in headlights. The astonished look upon my face belies the innocence of my brain.
    I think of my brain today, once a prized possession, as an iPhone: still a sophisticated device, but one that freezes up, shuts down without notice, drops calls, pocket dials with random or inappropriate conversation, and has a small battery that takes forever to charge. The inner anger is intense and manifests with Tourette’s-like expletives and curses, involuntarily at times and in primordial fury over what is happening to me. I try to hide it from family and friends; often I can’t. I’ve spoken to priests and