Legends, lore and the lost art of wonder

Do you ever catch yourself believing you're in charge of the universe?

Lunar eclipses have this delightful habit of interrupting our busy lives. One minute you're deciding whether to order sushi or tacos, and the next you're outside, neck craned, marveling at a giant celestial shadow creeping across the moon. It's humbling—a reminder that something vast and ancient is turning its gears far beyond our inboxes and meal plans.

But then the magic disappears, and we’re back to fretting about flooded cities and melting ice caps. Unable to process the fear, our egos jump in—desperate for control, they cling to narratives that promise to keep uncertainty at bay. Science, once a tool to explore the unknown, gets twisted into a tool to satisfy our comforts. And like a toddler with a marker and freshly painted walls, our egos got a little too carried away with our ability to play God with these absolutes.

We convinced ourselves that everything—our lives, our fate, the fate of the entire universe—was something we could control. Armed with spreadsheets and mindfulness apps, we declared ourselves masters of destiny, blissfully unaware that the universe has been quietly rolling its eyes at us.

This shift gave rise to a world clinging tightly to two extremes: the disillusioned, who see life as hopelessly chaotic, and the hedonists, who numb themselves in pursuit of fleeting pleasure. Both groups are missing something vital—the glue that steadies us when life feels fragile. Because in truth, stability doesn’t come from certainty—it comes from the willingness to let go of it. The more we release our grip on control, the more we learn that uncertainty isn’t scary—it’s part of the natural rhythm. When we allow nature to unfold as intended, we unburden ourselves with the impossible task of carrying the weight of the world.

Ancient folklore offers a different kind of narrative—one that transcends the ego. These tales stood the test of time because they were grounded in wisdom that doesn’t erase reality, but reframes it. They remind us that our struggles aren’t unique—they’re part of a long chain of human experience where generations have stumbled, fallen, and risen again. Once, we turned to elders—people rich with experience—to guide us through hardship. But in our ego-obsession with youth and its shiny potential, we've sidelined wisdom in favor of energy. When adversity strikes, we find ourselves with no compass. The young—full of promise but lacking perspective—are left to declare life meaningless in the face of hardship. They miss the truth that no matter how bleak things seem, the sun still rises. And with it comes a quiet invitation to course-correct—a reminder that life, even in darkness, is still moving forward.

“A warrior without courage is nothing.”
—Impa, The Legend of Zelda

In our endless squabbling over who’s right and which ideology shines brightest, we've forgotten to pause, look up, and wonder. We've traded curiosity for control, and in doing so, we've become corrupted by energy forces we were never meant to taste: the foresight of eternity without the wisdom of courage.

The true path doesn’t lie in winning arguments or correcting others like misbehaving children. It lies in helping each other see past blind spots, in cultivating compassion and curiosity. Only when we surrender our obsession with power and embrace the humility of wonder will we finally achieve the outcomes we so desperately seek.