Mystery

The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious.

It’s OK not to know. That acceptance is it own kind of faith. That clinging to the rocks is sometimes the way to go, because our lives will ultimately be measured my what we do rather that what we don’t.

Cling to the rocks if you like, or let go and take your chances in the current. It’s all going to change anyway. Impermanence shows us that nothing stays the same anyway. Sure, it might stay the same in your lifetime, but that’s not what I’m talking about. That’s not mysterious.

The mysterious in the quote isn’t about the unknown. Love’s not unknown and that remains a mystery to me. As does fashion, words or probability. I know about music but I’m baffled by it.

Like people who argue that football is twenty-two people kicking a football around a field. Well, yes. And no. Music’s just a series of notes interpreted through a twelve note octave based on the length on a string. Half the string length and there’s your octave. Half it again and there’s another one. Or it’s the other way around, and we have octaves because of string length. Or the string just knows, just as we do, where the octave is, and that’s just How It Is. Ooooooh.

Either way, a mystery.

Science though, that’s all explained, right? Light, density of matter, cause and effect, actions and reactions. It all figures?

Gravity. An object is drawn to another one. A larger object has a greater attraction on a smaller one. They can measure the tug of the moon down to the tide in a cup of tea.

Ask a scientist if we’ve got it all figured out. Ask a doctor.

We don’t, and it’s beautiful.

The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious.
-Albert Einstein

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