The Truth Is in the Knowing
We know what we know
I remember sitting in the basement of our family home, navigating the controller of our Super Nintendo with short fingers, mastering the art of making Mario jump on the backs of turtles. I’ve called at least five other places home since then, but I can still picture this one. The TV sits on a short stand against the wall, daytime light streams through the small windows. I lose my last life and see a black screen with pixelated block letters: ‘GAME OVER’.
A question of death grips me as I stare into that screen. It formed from the air around me, pressing into my mind, wondering and questioning. I heard of the nine lives of cats. Mario had three. As far as I knew, I only had one life to live. What would happen when I died? Would I see black, GAME OVER flashing before my eyes, and then get to start again?
I was 10 years old. That moment was the first of many times the weight of truth would grab me suddenly, unannounced, sending my mind floating and searching.
I have a memory of a boy I knew when I was a teenager. We sat together on his striped bedding as he held a book in his hand, long hair tucked behind his ears.
“I’ve learned about every other religion there is,” he told me. “So I know that this is the right one.” I can’t tell you his name. I don’t remember if…
