I’ve never been a religious person, but I do believe there’s something out here that’s higher than us lowly mortals.

Something.

I don’t know what it is.

Is it a person? Is it male or female? Is it both? Is it neither?

Or is it pure spirit, moving through the universe in ways we can’t comprehend?

I honestly don’t know.

What I do know is that the older I get, the harder it becomes for me to believe that all of this—the stars, the oceans, the trees, the animals, and these strange little lives we’re living—is nothing more than a cosmic accident.

Maybe that higher power is a God.

Maybe it’s a Goddess.

Maybe it’s the collective energy of every living thing that has ever existed.

Maybe it’s something so vast and complex that our human brains aren’t equipped to understand it.

I don’t have the answers.

What I have are questions.

In fact, I suspect I always will have questions.

There was a time when I thought wisdom meant having all the answers.

Now I think wisdom is learning how to live with uncertainty while continuing to ask.

Because some things are meant to be explored.

And because of that, I will continue to ask questions.

About life.

About death.

About the ancestors.

About the stars.

About whatever force keeps this old world spinning.

And when one question fades, another seems to take its place. But.

Whatever it is, it’s bigger than me.

And somehow, that’s enough.