Once upon a time, we were all little adventurers — wide-eyed, full of wonder, constantly asking why.
Why is the sky blue?
Why do trees lose their leaves?
Why does thunder rumble?
Why? Why? Why?
Back then, our questions weren't seen as challenges or rebellion. They were the songs of our growing minds. We didn't accept the world at face value because, instinctively, we knew there was always more beneath the surface. And in many ways, that unfiltered, boundless wonder was one of the purest forms of intelligence.
But somewhere along the way, many of us grew quiet. We stopped asking. We started following.
Not because we lost our ability to question — but because the world whispered to us: It’s easier not to.
Today, more than ever, we are surrounded by noise — headlines, opinions, "facts" that swirl around us at dizzying speed. In a world where information is instant, it’s so tempting to simply accept instead of investigate. It’s faster, it’s convenient, and honestly, it can feel comfortable to go with the flow.
But here’s the sacred truth:
We were never meant to stop asking why.
Curiosity is not childish — it is one of the highest forms of wisdom.
When we ask why, we invite deeper understanding.
When we ask why, we protect ourselves from being misled.
When we ask why, we honor the intelligence, the soul, and the spirit within us that longs for more than shallow answers.
Every time you pause and ask, Why is this being said? Why do I believe this? Why does this matter? — you reclaim a piece of your power.
You step out of the shadows of blind acceptance and into the brilliant light of truth, compassion, and freedom.
We were made to think.
We were made to feel.
We were made to seek.
Asking why doesn't make you difficult. It doesn't make you a troublemaker. It makes you awake. It makes you wise. It makes you whole.
Remember the child you once were — the one who wondered about the stars, who marvelled at rainbows, who looked up at the sky and dared to dream big, impossible dreams. That child is still inside you. That curiosity is not gone — it is waiting for you to listen again.
So ask why. Ask it boldly. Ask it gently. Ask it when you’re reading, when you’re scrolling, when you're living. Stay rooted in wonder. Stay fiercely thoughtful.
In a world that often rushes to answer, be the one to question.
Because sometimes, the most beautiful truths are waiting just behind one small, why.
