Our family visited San Francisco a few weeks ago. After taking a cable car ride to Chinatown, we walked the final few blocks towards our destination when we happened across this random thought painted on the side of a building.
For some reason I find it amusing and obscure and universal—all at the same time.
“Why” is what our children ask when we tell them to do something or when they are curious to know the meaning behind the blue sky. “Why” is what we speculate when our sweetheart ends our romance or we try to understand a theory in geometry.
“Why” is used a million times a day in an abundant array of situations. It is perfect. It is profound. It is never ending.
I wonder why that is?