How I became a child again

I asked my mom, “Why?”

She answered, “Because.”

I asked again, “Why?”

She repeated, “Because it is so.”

And once more I pressed, “But why must it be so?”

And that was how I began to discover the world.

Later, when I started school, asking questions became more difficult: we studied hard, took exams, and handed in assignments—but that didn’t stop me from wanting to understand things more deeply.

Over time, I gradually stopped asking questions. I sought and accepted clear, true answers, convinced that everything was knowable.

High school only reinforced this mindset: there was one correct definition and one term to use, or else it didn’t count. This reached its peak during my final year of high school and my first year at university, when, in debates about history or politics, I found myself in heated arguments with my closest friends and family—despite normally avoiding conflict.

In my second year at university, a shift began: I moved from “I’m convinced that” (certainty) to “I think that” (opinion), and finally to “I’m beginning to wonder” (reflection). It felt like returning to a world I had once known—a world without fixed truths.

I began asking, “Why must it be so?” or more precisely, “Can this question truly be answered?” And if not, “Does it even make sense to ponder it?” Sometimes it did; other times, what had once seemed essential felt pointless.

As for the ultimate question—“What is truly knowable?”—today I simply answer, “I don’t know.”

Continuation: Doubt vs. Determination: Striking the Right Balance

If you have any thoughts, questions, or feedback, feel free to drop me a message at mail@richardgolian.com.