There are mysteries, yes.
The three great mysteries: air to a bird, water to a fish, humanity to itself.
But how do you look beyond yourself when you’re so… you? How does the fish recognize water when it’s all it’s ever known? How does it even learn to question the great invisible breathe of its life?
I have no answers, but maybe like the bird diving from the tree’s edge for the first time, we have to return to something similar to our youths to find ourselves. To find the answers to the mystery that is us maybe we have to go back and visit a time when we never were, a time when we were not so certain in ourselves. A rebirth of sorts.
But I have no real answers. Great mysteries and their solutions allude me. But I suppose you can’t really trust anyone who says they truly know such things.
The Hindu People