Not Sure But Certain

I do not know first hand what hap­pens when this life is over. I will not know that, in an absolute sense, until I die. In the mean time, I am left to won­der what it is all about. Does the uni­verse expe­ri­ence some­thing through me as one set of eyes in so many other sets of eyes through the ages? Am I just an aber­ra­tion of atoms and mol­e­cules? How is it I can even talk about me?
Human con­scious­ness is a strange mys­tery. It is unique to each per­son. It can­not be fully exchanged from one per­son to another. Does it have a pur­pose? Why the vari­ety? Why the silence from above (if there is an “above”)? Why is there no face in the sky telling us what is going on?
I do not know. I got here a lit­tle over fifty years ago and have been try­ing to fig­ure it out ever since. Why do we suf­fer? I do not have a han­dle on that one either. I know that I suf­fer at var­i­ous lev­els, and from many things (some minor, some major). I also know that this is all tem­po­rary. Is some­thing going on that I do not yet com­pre­hend? Why is it that I expe­ri­ence pos­i­tive emo­tions too?
I am not sure of any of these things, but I am cer­tain that some­how there is pur­pose to it all. The rea­son behind my cer­tainty is that I smell a rat in the process. It some­how all works too well. Sen­tient beings live on a planet that seems to have plenty of what the sen­tient beings need to live. Acci­dent? I do not think so. It all works together too well. Still, there are the mis­eries and flaws that leave me won­der­ing.
The two most hound­ing ques­tions are sim­ple: (1) Does the uni­verse care what hap­pens to me? (2) Is there a higher pur­pose to my lit­tle life of joys and mis­eries? I am not sure, but I am cer­tain that for even logic itself to exist, then there must be a log­i­cal rea­son for life. How is it that we can have such a high level of devel­op­ment if there is no point to it? How is it that we can even ask the ques­tions?
I do not yet know, but my sus­pi­cions are cer­tain. Call it intu­ition. Call it faith. Call it what­ever you will. Some­thing greater than my life is going on, and it beck­ons me to pur­sue it.