If I was going to symbolize the God-idea (why not – isn’t that thought’s job?) it would be as a question mark.

I don’t mean a ? as in mystery – although that fits too – I mean as a dynamic.

It seems to me that the unknowable unspeakable whatever-it-is that lives this lifestream moves on the well-oiled wheels of curiosity. It’s the ultimate sticky-beak and nosey-parker, insatiably wondering about … everything that can be experienced and known in the infinite arena of existence. Ceaselessly wondering, but never, ever, reaching a conclusion.

Questions fuel my life and determine the choices ‘I’ make, the paths ‘I’ tread. One of the lovely things about senior-hood is that you can look back over a life and catch those questions. I marvel at that, and at the questions that laid out my lifepath.

In a back-to-front way it’s like you’re standing at the stern of a boat, watching the wake and suddenly seeing it as an arrow, an arrow frothing and surging with shoals of questions… an arrow propelling the lifeboat with your name on the prow towards an eternal horizon of possibilities.

Image source: National Geographic