Why is there something rather than nothing?

"Why is there something rather than nothing?" Schelling asked. Is there any other question worth asking?

The question itself is pointing to the mystery of what is, of what ever had been and ever will be. The question is the heartbeat of the ever-present wonder of being alive. The question is a pointing out instruction, it's the instruction that points to the dark side of the moon of everyday living. This dark side is that which remains unseen but which nevertheless exists and whispers mysterious syllables into your ears. That whisper is something that raises profound curiosity in your soul. The state of being curious catalyzes an opening to something far beyond the trance of ordinary life. This curiosity feels as something that life is about. It is about showing interest in life's secrets. To see a mystery in the ordinary, to recognize the depth beneath the surface of mirrors staring at each other means to accept responsibility for the unfolding of one's own life, moment by moment by moment. Digging up the grave of your being, coming out of the casket of your hiding is what brings you into this brand new world of darkness and luminosity.

Writing poems of appreciation and singing songs of love, interweaving different perspectives on existence with each other in an ultimate fluctuating synthesis is a way of showing our gratitude to that great dialogical nature of creation. And when you get this, you're approaching the turbulence that is destined to shake all your previous assumptions and attachments through death and rebirth of something that's ready for fun and spontaneous dance of forms. The whirlpool of change, the tornado of transmutation. Be willing to sacrifice your hut for a palace and your palace for the universe. Why not let go, indeed?