Can we all just stipulate from the get-go that none of us truly knows the answers to the big questions? I mean those few biggest of the big questions that seem to have driven us human-types to inner and outer quests seemingly from our remotest past sense of ourselves as selves; and our most distant past notions of being pieces or aspects of some greater whole.

A silly proposal, I know. Most of us seem to have such strong opinions on those questions. Some hold so tightly to their answers—hold to them with a kind of ideological death grip, as if holding on for dear (eternal) life—which has always smacked me as being a little desperate. Who exactly are they trying to convince? Themselves, I think.

What are the questions I’m talking about? Ultimates and origins.

What came before this? What comes after? Are before and after meaningless concepts when it comes to time, space and universes? What’s the nature of this life? This universe? Are there more than one of these crazy things?

This sense of right and wrong that most humans and all cultures seem to be imbued with—is it built-in? What are its rules, exactly? What price for violating them? Is the life of our consciousness finite? Is there something infinite that encloses this finite envelope we find ourselves in?

So we delve for answers. Sit at the feet of priests, gurus, Nobel winners and TED talkers for answers. We measure and probe, magnify and dissect for answers. We manically scroll our feeds and threads for answers. Spastically shoot out our own hashtag answers, see how many likes we can get and try to make them trend. If we can only get them to trend, maybe that means we’re right? We sit and count our breaths for answers. We hike mountains for answers.

“Everything that is possible to be believed is an image of truth.” –William Blake

To Be Continued (Only, Of Course and Always…)