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Sherlock Holmes is the man! I especially felt this way when I was a teenager.  Never had I heard of someone who could observe his environment so casually, and determine so many conclusions from what seemed, to the average eye, as insignificant.  Sherlock Holmes was the kind of guy that would be called in to solve a case, and could tell by just looking at a suspect, what his profession was, where he was from, medical traits, genetic predispositions, and maybe even whether he stood or sat down to use the bathroom.  I mean the dude was sick!  Almost psychic in his ability.

I remember admiring, almost envying his ability to figure out the most complicated of  mysteries, and to do it all in time to be home for dinner, and a hit from his opium packed pipe for desert. Yes he did have his quirks…

I guess, I’ve always had a thing for mysteries. I mean, even before Sherlock Holmes, there was The Hardy Boys Detective series.  These two white boys were simply gangstas.  I even enjoyed Nancy Drew.  Don’t tell anyone I told you that.  I couldn’t get enough of the way these young sleuths fearlessly pursued the clues, often endangering their very lives, all in order to solve the case.  People depended upon them to do so.  Justice often swayed in the balance, awaiting someone who dared to pursue the truth.

Today it seems like it’s no different. If anything it’s probably gotten worse.  I’m all grown up now, almost anyway.  And it’s begun to dawn on me, that there’s still a part of me that still likes a good mystery.  There’s something unsatisfactory about an unsolved mystery.  Law and Order re-runs don’t seem to quite quell my need for a solved mystery(although I will admit, they can be pretty entertaining).  Now it seems to be the mysteries of life that I can’t seem to get out of my mind.

It hit me recently that I’m not the only one. It appears that many of the various fields of study are trying to solve the biggest mysteries of all.  Life.  I guess its something in us as human beings to figure things out.  Science comes from one angle.  With the physicians peering into the unknowns of the human body.  The astrophysicist look up in the sky for clues as to our origin, and possible extra terrestrial life.  Historians, and anthropologist ponder the history of mankind, to see if our actions can shed light on who we are and where we are going.

We are searching.

We are trying to make sense out of each breath we take. The WHY, and the HOW drive us to investigate.  Now it seems like some of us, are content to avoid looking up, inward, or to the past.  There are many who, due to life’s immediate demands and challenges, find it hard to reflect, pause, and to critically examine the truth about ourselves, and the larger truths about life and the point of it all.  And I don’t think this should solely be relegated to some existential philosopher, or esoteric debate by cats in ivory towers.  I wonder why it is so hard to have a practical inquiry into the meaning of things. What is it that distracts or impedes us from investigating?