When was the last time you were conscious of death?
The other day, I went to the vet to pick up some medication for my cat. They seemed to be in the middle of an emergency surgery for another patient (though I couldn’t tell if it was a dog or a cat), so I ended up waiting a while for the prescription.
As I sat in the waiting room, I could hear the steady “beep, beep, beep…” of a heart monitor coming from the treatment room. At that moment, an indescribable sense of urgency and fear slowly welled up inside me.
The finite nature of life—something I rarely think about in my daily routine—was suddenly brought into sharp focus by that rhythmic electronic sound. And then it dawned on me: this wasn’t just about the animal on the operating table. I myself, and everyone else in that room, were all living out our own equally finite lives.
It made me feel that I need to be far more conscious of how limited our time really is.
Why am I doing what I am doing right now? Am I genuinely doing what I want to do? Or am I just doing it because someone else is making me? What is it that I truly want to do?
Work deadlines, family errands, the next task—when we are overwhelmed by managing the daily “hows,” we eventually forget to ask “why.” Moving forward without asking questions may seem efficient, but it might actually be the most exhausting way to live.
I realized the importance of this question one day, when I felt I had reached the halfway point of my life.
At the Halfway Point of Life, a Question Was Born
The Discomfort of Wondering, “Is It Okay to Just Keep Going Like This?”
In my daily life of continuously handling projects as a freelance engineer, I suddenly realized something. I had only ever thought about “how to earn money” and “how to survive.”
Since childhood, I was never trained to ask questions. In school, we are expected to “guess the right answer,” and once out in society, we are expected to “complete the given tasks.” The question of “why are we doing this?” has rather been sealed away as an act of disrupting the harmony.
However, at a certain point that felt like a halfway mark, a vague sense of “Is this really okay?” washed over me. Something was missing. No, to be precise—it was a sensation as if I was being hollowed out by not asking questions.
Not Asking Questions Meant Depleting Oneself
As neuroscience shows, more than 95% of our actions are driven by our subconscious—an automatic program created from our past. To act without asking questions is exactly surrendering oneself to that autopilot.
Autopilot seems comfortable. But if you think about it, when were the contents of that “automatic” system set? Did you choose them yourself, or were they ingrained by education, society, and advertising?
Previously, when I asked an AI about the “Ultimate Wisdom” on this site, Claude responded with these words:
“A question is not a means to obtain an answer. The act of continuously questioning itself is the most noble endeavor of human beings.”
These words struck a chord with me. I had always only thought of asking questions to seek answers. But in truth, the act of continuously questioning itself might be the fuel that keeps human beings alive.
The Universe Changed the Scale of My Questions
Why the Universe Now?
When I began to ask “What is truly important?” at my halfway point, my perspective naturally broadened. The more I delved into my personal struggles, the more I wanted to see the larger context that encompassed them. Life, humanity, the universe.
Becoming interested in the universe might have been inevitable in a way.
We exist for only a fleeting moment in the 13.8-billion-year history of the universe. If the history of the Earth were compressed into 24 hours, the appearance of humanity would be the last few seconds. When I learned of that difference in scale, something within me loosened up.
It’s not about “how small my worries are.” Rather, it’s the opposite. Within that unimaginable scale, there is still a ‘me’ who continues to hold questions—this fact paradoxically highlights “this very moment.”
My Heart Leaps When Science Says “We Don’t Know”
The more I explore astrophysics and quantum mechanics, the more surprised I am. It’s the fact that cutting-edge scientists uniformly say, “We don’t know.”
For example, hypotheses like the following are being seriously debated in the context of physics and philosophy:
- Multiverse Theory (Bubble Universes): Our universe might just be one of an infinite number of universes born.
- Many-Worlds Interpretation (Everett Interpretation): With every quantum choice, another timeline continues to branch off.
- Block Universe Theory: Past, present, and future all exist simultaneously, and “now” might just be an observer’s illusion.
- Holographic Principle: The three-dimensional reality we perceive might be a hologram projected from a two-dimensional informational surface.
- Simulation Hypothesis: The possibility that this entire universe is a simulation designed by a highly advanced intelligence.
All of these are “unprovable hypotheses.” Yet at the same time, they “cannot be disproved” at present. Physicists and philosophers are seriously debating them, writing papers, and presenting them at academic conferences.
The reason I am drawn to them is that within the “margin that cannot be disproved because it cannot be proved,” there lies freedom of imagination. Scientific rigor and richness of imagination are not at odds. Rather, the very cutting edge of science opens up the largest margins for us.
The Sensation of “Glimpsing the Truth”
When peering into the abyss of the universe, there is a sensation that is hard to put into words. An intuition that “something is there.” Those who have experienced it might understand—perhaps it can be described as awe toward the mystery that emerges at the edge of data and logic.
This is slightly different from a religious experience. It’s not about believing in God or worshipping something, but rather an elation toward the overwhelming “incomprehensibility” felt just before the limits of human perception.
If asked what the most suitable subject is for continuously questioning, I would unhesitatingly answer: the universe. Because the universe harbors an infinite number of questions that will absolutely “never be answered.”
A Map to the Truth—From Data to the Universe
How I Perceive the Hierarchical Structure of Truth
Yoshiaki Ishiyama, a researcher of the subconscious mind, outlines the hierarchy of information as follows:
Truth > Principle > Wisdom > Knowledge > Information > Data
What we interact with daily on the internet are the lowest layers: “data” and “information.” Combining these turns them into “knowledge,” and through practice, they become “wisdom.” Deepening and universalizing further leads to “principles,” and what dwells at their foundation is “truth.”
Personally, I have expanded this hierarchy to perceive it as a bird’s-eye view from the macro to the micro.
Truth > Universe > Human History > Capitalism > Way of Life > Individual > Conscious > Subconscious > ?
Viewing from the outermost layer (macro) and gradually zooming into the inner layer (micro). I believe this order is important. Because unless you first understand the “outer context,” you won’t be able to see the significance of your own worries and choices.
Conversely, if you only keep digging inwards—for example, by reading countless self-help books—you will eventually hit a dead end. Because if you don’t understand the system upon which that “inside” rests, you can never truly change yourself in a meaningful way.
“The Power of Stories” Taught by Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind
When I read Yuval Noah Harari’s Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind, my entire worldview changed completely.
Harari argues that the greatest reason Homo sapiens came to rule the Earth is neither intelligence nor physical strength, but the “ability to believe in fictions.”
Money, nations, corporations, religions—these are all non-existent “shared illusions.” A 10,000-yen bill is just paper, but it functions because people believe it has value. National borders are just lines drawn on the ground, but nations function because people share that story.
In other words, many of the values I have believed in as “matters of fact”—such as “effort will be rewarded,” “you should belong to a company,” or “saving money is safe”—may also be nothing more than historically constructed stories.
This is not despair, but liberation. Stories can be changed. It means that you can choose your own stories.
Knowing the Rules of the Game Called Capitalism
Capitalism, simply put, is a cycle of “earn, consume, and earn again.” However, few people realize that this cycle is designed regardless of an individual’s will.
The modern economic system is predicated on GDP growth. For growth, consumption is necessary. To stimulate consumption, it is necessary to create desires—or more accurately, “dissatisfaction.” Advertising is the manufacturing device for this dissatisfaction.
Even more serious is the attention economy. Social media, YouTube algorithms, notification designs—these are business models built upon capturing our “attention.” When our attention is stolen, our thinking becomes shallow, and the bandwidth to hold questions disappears. We then end up continuously consuming the content handed to us.
Playing a game without knowing its rules is the most disadvantageous way to fight. Understanding the mechanics of the game called capitalism, and then choosing how you will live—that, I believe, is the practice of “continuously questioning.”
The Subconscious: The Final Frontier
After looking outward (the universe, human history, capitalism), we finally turn our eyes inward—to questioning our own subconscious.
Despite governing over 95% of our actions, the subconscious is the most ignored realm. We think we are “acting on our own will,” but in reality, mostly it is just a replay of past memories and conditioned reflexes.
Saying that we need to “know our brainwashed selves” might sound like strong language, but this is an acknowledgment of facts, not a criticism. Everyone, myself included, has been indoctrinated with specific values—through education, culture, and the media. Recognizing this indoctrination is the first step.
It is the “knowledge of ignorance.” If you don’t know that you are brainwashed, you cannot free yourself from it. Knowing what you don’t know becomes the starting point of transformation.
The practical means to tap into the subconscious is setting intentions and managing attention. Clarify what you want to do and consciously direct your attention toward it. The 5% conscious mind gradually overwriting the 95% subconscious mind—this steady process is exactly what I consider designing a mindset.
How to Live as One Who Continues to Question
In the AI Era, the “Power to Question” Becomes Increasingly Rare
Now that generative AI is rapidly spreading, the value of the ability to “provide answers” is plummeting. We are in an era where information is instantly available by searching or asking AI. What sets us apart, then, is what we ask.
A good question breeds a good answer. But the reverse is not true—having a good answer does not cultivate a good question. Questions are born from experience, refined through introspection, and evolve through the depth of thought.
The more we are in an age of information overload, the more those without questions remain merely consumers of answers. They take the conclusions produced by AI at face value and try to apply them to their own context. That in itself is not a bad thing, but information without your own questions will never truly become yours.
The Question of What to Direct Attention to Before Dying
Time and attention are the two finite resources given to us. And modern society is relentlessly trying to exploit both.
I cannot forget the insight Claude provided regarding the “Ultimate Wisdom.”
“The sum of your attention is your life itself.”
Even if you spend the same hour, the “quality” of that time is completely different depending on what you pay attention to. An hour spent constantly reacting to smartphone notifications versus an hour spent contemplating the mysteries of the universe. Although physically the same amount of time, the density of the lived time is entirely different.
“Being busy” tends to become an excuse for not holding questions. However, if you truly possess a question, it will continue to quietly turn over in your mind, whether you are commuting or cooking. Busyness doesn’t steal your questions—having your attention stolen is what takes your questions away.
If so, the practical way to continue questioning is protecting your attention. Taking a breath before opening social media, turning off notifications, intentionally creating quiet time—these are not just productivity hacks, but environmental designs for living with questions.
Holding a Question Is Not Giving Up on an Answer
The truth of the universe will probably not be unraveled during my lifetime. Do multiverses truly exist? Is the simulation hypothesis correct?—Answers will likely not be found.
Even so, there is no need to stop questioning.
Even without an answer, we change by continuing to hold questions. Those who have kept questioning the mysteries of the universe will live “this very moment” with a different depth than those who have not. A question seeking the truth continues to cultivate the inside of the questioner, even if no answer emerges.
Walking while accepting “I don’t know.” That is not a weakness, but the maturation of intellect. As indicated by the words Gemini 3 flash once said, “100% certainty is the death of thought,” continuing to stand within uncertainty is the attitude toward true wisdom.
Conclusion—A Way of Life That Doesn’t Let Go of “?”
My questioning began at the halfway point of my life. “What is truly important?”—That question went from the personal inside to the outer reaches of the universe, and then returned back inside.
By knowing the universe, I felt both my own smallness and the nobility of the act of questioning.
By learning about human history, I realized that the “matters of fact” I believed in were fictions.
By understanding the mechanics of capitalism, I understood that attention and time are being exploited by design.
By becoming aware of the subconscious, I am trying to steer away from autopilot and toward conscious choices.
And the question that remains at the end is simple.
To what will I direct my attention until the day I die?
I don’t think I need to come up with a final answer to this question. The attempt to do so, the continuation of questioning—because that endeavor itself is enriching my life.
Continuing to walk while accepting “I don’t know.” That is my answer for now.
Comment