As a lover of stories, one of the twinklings that drew me forward in the matter of spiritual adventure was the matter of cause and effect. It was verifiable without reference to spiritual maunderings and hence more credible than other approaches from where I sat:
No matter how far into the future anyone reached, still there was no reaching "the end;" no matter how far back anyone reached, there was no reaching "the beginning." Beginnings and endings were fabricated. There was only one story ever, but stories beckoned nonetheless under the hand of the author, the god. No beginnings, no endings and yet something within delighted in beginnings and endings. The criminal got caught; the lovers kissed; the sun set or the sun rose. The mind simply could not compass a place of no beginning or no end, so beginnings and endings were cobbled together under some whimsical whim.
Every cause was an effect. Every effect was a cause. Forth and back. Back and forth -- into the maw of not-exactly-emptiness-yet-not-exactly-not-either.
What was before that and before that and before that...?
What was after that and after that and after that...?
I was not interested in positing "god" by positing god.
Stories were not "stories," they were "story," but that was too amorphous, too huge so ... catch the criminal, kiss the girl/boy.
And what was before that?
And what was after that?
Leave things alone.