Happy accidents

We are ignorant. Every last one of us. We know so little about so much and hardly know that. What we do know, we know by accident. We stumbled upon the discovery of this continent, we sparked flames when we weren't trying, and we had to try every poison berry before we knew which ones tasted best in our fruit salad. Of all the facts that are floating around in the realm of possibility, it is by pure chance that we found the ones that we did. Just as easily as we have plucked these things from the unknown and made them true, we could have left them there, plucked something else instead. But we have not. And for that we have the world that we do, full of facts and yet so equally not. And, for these accidents, I am immeasurably thankful. 

I am grateful that we discovered there are different ways to move the pitch in our voices and that these tones can be imitated by tightened strings and pots and pans, for whoever decided these sounds were beautiful and worth progressing. I am grateful that we gave words to things like "love" and "thought" and "purpose" and "enough" and all of the things I cannot hold but so often try to in my head. I am grateful for running water, domesticated crops, multi-story buildings, the alphabet, arithmetic, good smelling soap--things we could survive without but not in the way I have come to enjoy. And, right now, I am grateful to have stumbled into the company I have. I am grateful that, by happy accident, I have found comfort and tranquility and bliss.