Questions.

I am a lover of science.

I devour answers,

and the sharp edge for the blood of truth.

Yet, the unknown overwhelms us, and I can’t quiet the feeling we’re ignoring something vitally important.

Curiosity. It is explained in evolution as an obvious advantage for the acquisition for new resources, whether food, shelter or mates. Those who wander are indeed not always lost, but driven, and may happen upon milk and honey and thus, the line of restlessness endures.

However.

At what point do we separate or allow evolution to become faulty? And at what bypass do we wonder if there is more to Darwin’s theory then a cold, linear line of survival?

Let me stop you here. No, I am most definitely not going on a religious proclamation. Bear with me.

Curiosity. A drive to know more, to see more. The stars.

Human beings are more then willing (myself included?), to forge the natural air and gentle light for artificial creations of our own. Like Gods we strive and yearn to create worlds and civilizations. We search endlessly to find, sort, and name life, demanding human conquest as a given innate right to our nature.

To do so humanity is exposed to places life was once forbidden- sacred places of the universe reserved for the inorganic compounds that circulate within us- but not for us. We want space and time to be liken to us, in our image, growing and evolving. Changing and spreading.

So, perhaps a genetic motivation is at play after all. Not restricted to lines of organic code, but on a macro scale as a universal womb, a living incubator gestating eternity.

And the desire to bring life is the birthing pains of our beckoning. It lures us into the greater space like sperm, forging into the dark, cold abyss in the hope for something we don’t understand. Trading our human nature to become something more beautiful and strange then we’re able to envision.

Shall we answer? Are we the babe in the dark forest, in search of a kind wolf mother to suckle the knowledge and experience we so long for?

What if we find nothing? What if what we find is more then nothing; a darkness that sets upon our communal nature to be transformed into a cold, lonely being incapable of comradeship and lighting the only line of connection in the expanse of nothing.

Another thought. What will we become if the unknown is unknowable? That what we know as reality is but a state of simulation and thus, in all our sacrifice and love and restless exploratory spirit we push through the bleak desert and discover a mirage. That our aspirations are no more then code, and our wonder just a manufactured awe that can be controlled and changed at a whim.  That our lives are but for the curiosity of some great programmer.

But what of meaning, and what all for? The great question every philosopher ponders, every child and every conscious being. Is it merely for the sake of connection? As those on the deathbed and all the old texts claim, are the lives we live for the sole purpose of bringing warmth to an indifferent universe? In this regard, to abandon our ability to do so by stuffing ourselves in metal coffins, bringing a solitary deep sleep, and leaving behind the abundance of life a direct insult to the real purpose? If this is a simulation, would this great sacrifice be but a test, a wrong turn, and out there, in the vast emptiness, we find nothing but our regret?

But who’s to say happiness shall take precedent in life? We all know that to be happy is a good feeling, it is beautiful and warm and a state that we all crave in one way or another.

But I interject that not contentment, but contempt is the engine for human progress. Pain and sadness are the drivers for change, not the joy. Any inquiry into history can prove it. When one is happy, a desire to change is instinctively blocked. That requires risk, and of course some take it, but most will prefer to stay where safety and euphoria are a given.

Ah, but what of boredom? Well I’d say that when the trickle of the mundane settles into the soul, you are no longer quite happy. So the state changes, and the madness for risk overrides the benefit of pleasure.

So, I’d say that not simply happiness is the purpose of our lives, but a mixture of the two. Like a drug, we seek states of happiness and move through them when the itch for adventure drags us forward. Not all have this restlessness, but all benefit from those who do. By giving up our comfort and well-being to the monster of curiosity, we give human beings the milk of achievement.

And I celebrate it. The terror of the unknown. The intense beauty in intimacy. The profound realizations in despair and the life giving joy of connection and camaraderie. I love it and I love all and every being, because we have this shared experience of existence and whether or not it’s “real” matters not, because here we are and I can bridge us together and we can vibrate in the cosmos together.

So push further humanity- push into it and infect it with our life and light. Go explorers of the stars! We shall thrust ourselves into the dark and bring the spark of life.

Because the whisper of responsibility will not quiet, and even if we are all that is alive, we can be the Gods of creation and fertility and carry the torch of existence.