To a fellow Chrononaut (as everyone who has ever existed actually is… without conscious consent):
When you jump back from your perspective, keep in mind as your neurons and dendrites navigate the temporal flux (anywhere from 0.8 – 3%), that there was never any possibility of any paradox. Grandfathers or even cats in a box, will exist in every reality, simply because they must.
Each choice is chaotic but always defined, even though everyone is unaware of it…Ambiguity has been embedded for this reason. And just as you have viewed your past, present and future (as arbitrary as it has always been perceived) everyone will always answer to the mainframe “Operator” in charge; “it” oversees the giant server that spits out the code for every possible choice that ignites creation.
Things are bigger and greater than any of us; more complicated than what our own neural networks can operate at with our very limited RAM – We are only capable of holding a maximum of about 1-20 Terabytes of our entire encoded Data that dictates each of our actions. But, as with every other living thing (in this existence or another) the reality for everything that lives has already been encoded within the binary that runs you – and everyone and everything*…
“Spiritual Poem about Death”
“Based on a soldier’s letter to his daughter. After the atrocities witnessed at several places Hiroshima, Vietnam, Iraq, it is warning to the future not to allow the current world to continue in it’s [sic] manner.”
A Soldier’s Winter 
The day before it wasn’t snowing.
After amber suns made our Earth now glowing.
The trees are strangers, leering, disapproving
In the ash of winter, are minds are now moving
My world, my life, my wandering path.
It seems not God, but man’s own wrath.
I pray God’s eyes may us once again,
Gaze upon us at our end.
We will rebuild, we will renew,
From a world of greed and lust that left so few.
Remind me that I am still his child.
And provide us with your mercy mild.
 Cicero. “A Soldiers Winter.” 2006/2007(?). Familyfriendpoems.com. Family Friend Poems, n.d. Web. 25 January 2014.
And from physicist Sylvester James Gates: