I approach life like a child sometimes. Not the wild, rowdy horse-playing that trademarks childish behavior. I’m talking about something else. I’m talking about the feeling you get when you look up at an airplane in the sky and wonder what the trailing clouds are made out of. Or when you wonder what’s in a deep forest that’s barely visible from the last remaining embers of daylight.
As we get older, that sense of wonder escapes up. “Why do fireflies light up the night” is tweaked ever so slightly to become “How do fireflies light up the night.” Metaphysical questions give way to scientific facts, and that science is not nearly as intriguing. The great philosophers still asked why things happened, accepting that there are things more important than science.
Simply memorizing and knowing things will never fulfill me. The more I try to find fulfillment in knowledge, the more I lose the feeling of not knowing. Of simply accepting that a being greater than me created a world that I’m not completely capable of understanding. What I gain in exchange is the constant pressure to compete in a world based on rules marked by the constant imperfections of humanity.
When you give up the child-like search for what’s behind the threads of the world, you begin to assume you can understand it all. Being naive quickly shifts from a rallying cry for adventure to a rebuking insult. When you give up the search, you give up the feeling.
Word count: 249