I don’t know very much. In fact, all of my knowledge could probably fit into one average sized box, light enough for one average person of average strength to carry away. And I would let them carry it away if needed. I would let them take from me every fact I knew for certain, every detail I knew as truth, every explanation I had ever formed. Because I’ll always continue to search.
What I like in this life, in this world, is the unexplainable. I like the way everything moves in cycles. I like the way my eyes open each morning and close each night. I like the way the muscle that we call the heart grows stronger each time it is torn. I like the way death replaces life, and the way life replaces death. I don’t know if we are each given one life, or many, but I like that I understand life and death equally, which is barely at all. I like the idea of the infinite, but I also like the idea of the precious nature of time.
I like how you can lose an entire day to a book, and have really lost nothing at all. I like that each morning is a new possibility and that every passing moment is another chance to turn it all around. I like that endings and beginnings aren’t definitive. I like the complications.
I like that everything is connected. I like that we are singular, and yet never really alone. I like that in every moment we are thinking of someone and in every moment someone is thinking of us. I like that joy in sorrow are one in the same.
I like love. I like the love between lovers, and between friends, and between family. I like the way your laugh sounds intertwined with mine, which has nothing to do with love, except everything.
I like laughter. I like how it is shared. I like how each laugh is unique, how I know the sound of yours without having to hear it, how it is forever embedded within my heart. I like the way laughter feels right before it erupts, the way it makes my stomach ache, the way it fixes things. I like the foolishness and severity of love, which has nothing to do with laughter, except everything.
I like not knowing the limits of the earth’s appetite for life. I like the way it never stops searching and growing and evolving. I like the way it offers its softness up to us with cupped hands. I like accepting these gifts without question.
I like the way a flock of birds could easily be one, how each knows exactly which way to glide along the breeze in unison with the rest. I like the way they announce each morning in song. I like the way they are forever singing for their lives. I like the way they surge from their sitting place all at once, like a bottle of champagne popping open, like laughter. I like the way they float among the clouds, like people in love.
I like the way the trees change colors, the way oceans move in and out along the shore, the way the sky paints itself into beauty, all of which have explanations, but all of which I would prefer to spend my life considering. I prefer to wonder. I prefer to continually be surprised and amazed and consumed with awe. I prefer to never really have the answers. I prefer to spend my life searching. Which has nothing to do with who I am, except everything.