Something’s Going On

If you are pay­ing atten­tion at all, you have to have a healthy sus­pi­cion. No one in their right mind can pos­si­bly come to the con­clu­sion that life is some sort of grand acci­dent. This planet works too well. It looks like it was cus­tom made for us. The more we explore, the more mys­tery and beauty we find. The sum is greater than the parts. We have yet to answer the “why” of it all.

Some­where along the road of life, you feel like you need to look over your shoul­der. Are we here alone, or is some­thing watch­ing us? Life is not a sim­plis­tic story — far from it. It is a bal­ance of an almost infi­nite num­ber of vari­ables, each of which is a mir­a­cle in and of itself. To pon­der life at all is to invite that strangely haunt­ing feel­ing that some­thing is going on.

That Some­thing has a way of hid­ing while being over­whelm­ingly obvi­ous. It has an amaz­ing style and so much class that it works with­out an ego. That strange Force is appar­ently big on all pos­si­bil­i­ties and prefers an ele­gant sim­plic­ity. The end result includes things like pup­pies, canyons, galax­ies, babies gig­gling, oceans, thun­der­storms, and gor­geous sunsets.

What­ever is going on allows for some ele­ments whose pur­pose we have yet to grasp: suf­fer­ing, death, dis­ease, nat­ural dis­as­ters, and a luck-of-the-draw gam­ble of genet­ics. What an incred­i­ble com­bi­na­tion! Some­where toward mid-life we begin to wake up to it all (and hope­fully reach the level of won­der of a small child). Something’s going on, and I can’t define it. I can’t con­trol it. But for rea­sons unknown, I sense that I will have to trust it.