I never had the kind of brain that comprehended physics. Large steel boats shouldn’t float; jumbo jets shouldn’t be able to stay up in the air; and the full weight of a car shouldn’t be supported by a few pounds of air pressure inside round rubber tires. It all seemed like cheating—like someone had bent the rules and forgotten to explain life.
Then I read that big, puffy clouds—those soft drifting marshmallows in the sky—can weigh as much as a killer whale. A killer whale! That did it. I stared up at the sky, half expecting them to drop down with a thunderous crash. How were they floating? Why weren’t they falling down on top of us? It felt like the world was full of illusions, things we all pretended to understand but didn’t really.
The truth is, I live surrounded by things I can’t explain. Maybe that’s what adulthood is—getting used to the impossibility of everything, pretending it's normal.
I used to think I just wasn’t smart enough to get it, but maybe it’s not about being smart. Maybe some of us are wired to feel wonder where others find logic. Maybe confusion is a kind of reverence—a way of honoring the mystery in things. If I hang on to that thought, I won't feel so bad about myself.
1 comment:
Ya But - those other guys did find Wonder first......they just kept finding Wonder until it turned into Logic! Hence - The Wright Brothers. Most of us just enjoy and appreciate the Wonder!
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