As we contemplate our busy lives or ponder our problems, we need to keep in mind that we're creatures suspended between the incalculably large and the unimaginably small. Sitting in one tiny place on one planet in one solar system spinning through a huge galaxy populated by tens of billions of other such systems and itself just one speck among hundreds of billions of galaxies, perhaps trillions, formed around the strangest of objects called black holes, we also skate over the thinnest ice of quantum probability waves of entangled energy that we call solid ground. And we have no idea about so much of it. I see a small cat concentrating on something and muse that he likely has no thoughts in his own mind of the layers and complexities of my life as a human being and husband, father, and grandfather, nor of my work as a philosopher seeking truth. And perhaps that gap in understanding is vanishingly minuscule compared to the chasm between what we think we know and the actualities of the reality within which we find ourselves. So we should seek to learn the rules of the game we're in, and how to play it well, nobly and formatively, so that we emerge in the end as at least some approximation of the best that we can become here, poised between infinities. And it seems to me that the rule of rules for this game is love, expressed through wisdom and virtue; and even the cat can feel the results of that.