When
I was a boy, “search me” -- meaning “I have no clue” -- was a response I
sometimes used when questioned about something, and I was thinking this morning
that I could make it my personal slogan, since I honestly have few definite answers
on almost any issue. I have occasionally enjoyed pretending I know the right answers,
but the truth is, I could forage in my mind forever and still not be sure I’ve
got the truth. All I usually find, in fact, is a formidable wilderness of answers,
like wispy flakes moving by the millions through my mind. For me, life at 73 is
almost always fun, and sometimes fantastic, but that doesn’t mean I have
answers. Actually, I’ve pretty much given up trying to find answers, and
instead, I guess I’m savoring the surprisingly charming world of my
cluelessness. The sky above is immense and unsearchable and beautiful, and so,
I now see, is the universe of answers. Instead of searching, I’m just
appreciating.
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