I think it’s worthwhile to review the big questions in life now and then. Not just because time passes—and maybe wisdom falls like an apple—but because perspective shifts after impact. A crisis, a loss, even a brush with death… these don’t hand us answers. But sometimes, they open a crack.
As Leonard Cohen wrote, “There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”
No, I haven’t been given the meaning of life—or even the purpose of my life. The Big Questions remain unanswered. But in the cracks, there has been light. A few things now shine clearer.
First is the sheer force of care—how people reach out, how love shows up. And strangely, how hard it can be to receive it. I’ve been surrounded by heartfelt expressions from people who, in ordinary times, might never say such things aloud. We interact with a kind of practiced distance—cordial, reserved, not “too involved.” But when something ruptures, when the edge appears, we speak more honestly. Or maybe we finally feel what’s been there all along.
That’s a mystery worth keeping.
There’s a second kind of vision too. Facing the abyss doesn’t necessarily bring grand insight—but it does shift the view. The same people, the same rituals, even the same clutter around the house—they all look different. Not because they’ve changed. But because you have. You stepped two paces to the left. That’s all it took.
The trick, of course, is not to step back.
Perspective is fragile. You can gain it easily and lose it even faster. That may be why the most common command in Scripture is simply: “Remember.” Don’t forget. Don’t slip back into blindness. Remember the care you received. Remember the love you feel. Remember the view from the edge.
It’s just past Rosh Hashanah—the beginning of a new year. I’ve been given a new rhythm, a new scar, a new heart. I won’t claim to have answers. But I do have a deeper gratitude. And that may be the beginning of something.
It’s always the right time to start.
You may never get the chance again.
A Work Progressing 