Life is a fickle thing.
It often seems that I go through life waiting for those aha moments when I suddenly think that I have it figured out, that life is easy if only you live it. But it never takes long for the aha to be replaced with the ohh, and for life to suddenly seem like the most complicated thing in existence, because it is.
Scientists can explain gravity, can look at objects millions of miles away, but they can't explain life. They can't write in a book why things are how they are, why one life can be so completely different from another, or why the same event occurring in two lives can have such profoundly different effects. They can write theorems all day about philosophy or math, but they can't write a single all encompassing theorem about life, even in its most general sense.
That is an intimidating thought. How am I supposed to know what I want from life, to do with life, if I'm not even certain what life is, what it means to be alive? Moments happen, and they inspire you to do things, great things, but then the moment passes and so too it seems the aha moment that gives courage to actions passes with it.
