But it is important to know this, to know your roots. To know where you started as a person. If not, your own life seems unreal to you. Like a puzzle. Vous comprenz? Like you have missed the beginning of a story and now you are in the middle of it trying to understand.
And the Mountains Echoed
I know my origins and still there are times my life feels unreal to me. Not just my life...but life in general. There is so much I struggle to understand. Like the relationship between chance and fate, or joy and sorrow, or suffering and celebration. Good and evil are right up there too. I always come to the same conclusion : each day we wake up and go forth and through we are living a miracle. That allows me to stop trying to make sense because miracles are beyond reason and understanding. By very definition they have none. Something tells me that at the end of my story I'll still be searching for meaning.