We don't know all the answers. If we knew all the answers we'd be

Hear now the words of Jack LaLanne, the tireless champion of health and life, who declared with playful wisdom and solemn truth: “We don’t know all the answers. If we knew all the answers we’d be bored, wouldn’t we? We keep looking, searching, trying to get more knowledge.” In this saying, hidden beneath its lightness, lies a treasure of profound depth. For the quest of mankind has never been to possess all answers, but to be ever stirred by the mystery, ever compelled by the unknown. The fire of existence is not in having everything, but in the search, in the restless striving of the soul toward something greater.

The ancients taught that the gods themselves veiled certain truths from mortals, not to punish them, but to keep alive their hunger for wonder. For a life where every answer is known is a life stripped of adventure, like a tale whose ending is spoiled before the first page is turned. Mystery is the music of the universe; it beckons the mind to grow, the heart to dare, and the spirit to expand beyond its boundaries. Without mystery, there is no quest; without the quest, there is no glory.

Consider the voyage of Christopher Columbus. Though the world around him declared that the seas beyond were perilous and unknown, he sailed westward into waters that maps dared not mark. He did not possess all answers; he carried only the courage to search. His journey was not flawless, nor his motives perfect, yet it illustrates a timeless truth: the advancement of humanity is born not from certainty, but from risk, from seeking, from the daring refusal to accept what is already known as the final word.

In our own age, we drown in information and yet thirst for wisdom. Many believe that with our sciences, our machines, and our libraries, we should now be sated, for surely we have nearly all the knowledge there is. Yet LaLanne reminds us that if such fullness were possible, it would not delight us—it would crush the human spirit beneath the weight of finality. We are made not to sit content, but to climb; not to rest forever, but to rise ever higher. The unknown is the horizon that keeps us moving, the distant star that pulls us forward.

The heart grows stale when it no longer learns. The mind withers when it ceases to ask. A people who claim to know everything drift toward arrogance and decay. But those who admit their ignorance and embrace it as the soil of growth are forever renewed. To confess, “We do not know,” is not weakness but strength, for it opens the door to discovery. Searching is the soul’s true diet, the sustenance that keeps us from dying of stagnation.

The lesson, then, is this: do not fear the unanswered questions of your life. Cherish them. Let them press you forward as the sailor is pressed by the wind. Ask boldly, seek widely, learn humbly. When the world offers you mystery, do not despair—rejoice, for it means you are alive and still capable of wonder. To live as LaLanne urged is to be forever a student of life, forever nourished by the sweetness of discovery.

Therefore, in your own walk, make this your practice: seek one new truth each day, however small. Read not only to confirm what you already know, but to be challenged, even shaken. Ask questions that stretch beyond your comfort, and do not be ashamed to admit, “I do not know.” For in that admission lies the beginning of wisdom. So long as you keep looking, searching, trying, you will never grow bored of life—for life itself will be your endless, glorious teacher.