If you know, you know.

But what if you don't have a f****** clue?

The Perpetual State of "Knowing Nothing"

Most days, if I’m being honest, I feel like I know absolutely nothing. Like, truly, fundamentally nothing. And on those days, I’m genuinely shocked, sometimes even a little terrified, but always, always delighted, to learn or understand something just a tiny bit more broadly than I once had.

You could say it’s a constant quest, this relentless search for knowledge. I'm a Gemini, if you know, you know. But maybe, just maybe, this whole thing is simply a byproduct of my brain continually trying to make sense of the things I see, and more importantly, why I see them.

The "Why" Kid

For a while, I went through this phase where my catchphrase was "never stop asking why." It sounds cute, right? Like a little curious philosopher. But really, it was because I had, without a doubt, thoroughly annoyed either my parents or pretty much everyone else around me with my relentless need to understand. I just did not get it. I truly, deeply, fundamentally did not get it.

This need to unravel things even led to a period where I firmly objected to the very idea of a "right" or "wrong." It seemed to me that most things just were or weren't by virtue of consensus, that truth was more about how many people agreed with something than any inherent, universal fact. This particular rabbit hole even led to a brief stint studying political science at ESU – but that, my friends, is a story for another day.

The way my brain would unravel over a simple math question was astonishing. The way people would try and explain "real numbers" to me – my god. It wasn't that I didn't want to learn, it was that the explanation rarely clicked.

People just always said, "This is how it is." But I needed the context. I craved the clarity. I struggled, truly struggled, to find it.

A New Generation of Curiosity

And now, here I am, with a child who reminds me daily that there’s always time to slowly break things down for understanding, to check for processing, and to open the space for someone to see something entirely different from the world. And that, I’m learning, isn't a bad thing at all. It is, in fact, the very best thing.

(Take a breath, Miriam.)

But needless to say, it is something I won't squash out of them. I will protect that fierce, curious spark like I wish were done for me. And maybe, just maybe, in the doing so, we both get the clarity we need. Or better yet, we change the world entirely, because different brains truly do make for different, and sometimes, entirely revolutionary, things.