First, let me say, I’m not a conspiracy theorist. I don’t disbelieve the moon landing, or think that Elvis is still alive.
But I’m willing to believe that there are many things that neither you nor I can explain.
I love that. What’s life without some mystery?
That’s why I love winding roads: I never know what’s around the next bend.
When I was young my mother used to sing me an Irish lullaby. Part of it is in Gaelic, and I’ve never looked up the meaning behind the words. That’s not the point of the song. For me a good deal of its beauty is the not knowing.
I’ve been to Loch Ness in the Highlands of Scotland. It’s possible that Katie and I believe that the Loch Ness Monster (we refer to her affectionately as Nessie) has escaped detection all these years through a series of underwater tunnels, connecting the lochs…
Do I really believe that there’s a lake monster living in Loch Ness?
But I’m not willing to discount it, either.
Why should I? I love the not-knowing. There’s a incredible sense of childlike wonder and awe thinking of all the things that we still don’t know.
I don’t know about you, but I’ll be keeping an eye out for those faery circles… you might end up dancing with the faeries forever if you step in one…