lifestyle

Iceland’s Eyjafjallajökull volcano

So I have a few projects going on right now. One of them is designing wedding invitations for my sister. The other is to figure EVERYTHING out. Yeah, you know, absolutely EVERYTHING. It’s proving difficult.

I used to think I had EVERYTHING figured out. Actually, I used to think the people that told me they had EVERYTHING figured out had EVERYTHING figured out. Why? Because some other people who said they had EVERYTHING figured out told them so. I guess it was easier that way, because ever since I decided I would try to figure EVERYTHING out for myself, I have had nothing but trouble.

It turns out some other people have also been trying to do the same thing. Some of them have been pretty smart too and they’ve been going at it for thousands of years. Bad news though… they haven’t figured EVERYTHING out just yet. Yeah, we’ve learned a whole bunch but it seems like every answer we find has a few hundred new questions huddling and giggling behind it like the couch at a surprise party.

So maybe we need to just face it. We’ll never figure EVERYTHING out. EVERYTHING is kind of a lot.

Speaking of a lot, they say that the universe is infinite. They also say it’s expanding. So, naturally, I wonder if it’s infinite AND expanding then, well, what’s ‘outside’ the universe? Our brains don’t really like gaps of unexplainable nothingness. Uncertainty is most certainly unacceptable. So, when we place our order for a copy of “Everything We Know and Believe” from Amazon.com, we want to make sure there are plenty of styrafoam peanuts to fill the gaps in that box. After all, if the box gets shaken, we need to have faith in those peanuts to make sure our personal copy of ”Everything We Know and Believe” isn’t severely damaged. And I suppose that is where folklore, legend and religion come in, filling the spaces between and beyond in case our box gets rattled.

You see myth has always existed at the points just out of our grasp;  right where our steadily expanding human knowledge ends. It used to be that our gods lived at the top of the mountains. Then we climbed the mountains. They lived in the clouds. Then we flew above them. They shone in the night sky. Then our satellites analyzed them. Now, it seems that the gods have been forced to relocate to dimensions parallel to our own. Perhaps one day soon, a quantum physicist’s equation will force them to relocate yet again.

It is hard to imagine living thousands of years ago — back when our current (relatively meager) cumulative knowledge would have been in an embryotic state — and not hypothesize exactly how our protectice layer of styrafoam peanuts might have developed. Imagine trying to understand the glowing ball of light that moved through the sky every day; the dark, twisting fingers that descended from the clouds to consume and destroy everything in their path; millions upon millions of flying creatures swarming across the land devouring everything in their path; or the entire earth rumbling and fracturing all around you.

Imagine these or any other of the countless natural wonders and disasters that occur all around this world we call home. Now imagine witnessing these events without the slightest clue of how or why they were happening. No scientific journals to consult; no case studies; not a soul who could provide even a word of (non-magical) explanation. Nothing but you and your human imagination. How many styrafoam peanuts would you need to keep your box from rattling?

This really became crystal clear (at least to me) earlier today when I came across photos of Iceland’s Eyjafjallajökull volcano erupting. The photos show the ethereal glow of lightning bolts weaving their way through a massive colume of ash, smoke, and flame billowing miles and miles up into the sky. The photos alone are so beautiful and terrifying that it is impossible to fathom what it must look, sound, and feel like to experience such an event first-hand. How can you wrap your mind around power so unfathomable. Even in a scientific context, it is ominous and awe-inspiring. 4,000 years ago it would have been revelatory.

I, for one, would have started carving an idol or building a temple immediately.

Unfortunately, we have to be cautious that, like religion,  much of our science is just something we heard from someone who says they have EVERYTHING figured out. Afterall, not many of us have the skills, resources, or time to clean out the garage, let alone solve any of the infinite mysteries humans have pondered since our beginning. We must rely on the cumulative knowledge which is proclaimed to us from scientific pulpits. Like popes in labcoats, they seem to have a direct line to heaven, and the rest of us have to hope that it really is God who is whispering in their ears.  And we must also be warry of dogma, as many followers of various scientific doctrines can momentarily forget that finding the truth is more important than being ‘right’.

But at the very least, we can be comforted that science, unlike any other religion, inherently admits that it is possible to be wrong. Ulitmately, it demands not unquestioning faith, but unwavering skepticism and proof. We will probably never have EVERYTHING figured out, but we might as well try.