Notes on life: Questions
Apparently we all seem to have this unique ability to ask questions. Deep down behind such ability lies an urge; curiosity. The urging feeling of wanting to gain deeper understanding and comprehension of what’s around us.
What seems peculiar to me is that nothing around us necessitates that we have this urge; to question and ponder about abstract ideas for no specific reason but to “know”. I wonder why this is the case? Where do these questions come from? What’s the nature of such an urge? I question the reason behind the existence of questions…
To add to my perplexity, we seem to find answers! Why is it the case that we can understand, comprehend and make sense of the universe? Again, nothing necessitates that we do. To quote the late Einstein:
“The most incomprehensible fact about the world is that it is comprehensible”