I am not a religious person. I grew up in a family that was non-religious. My parents decided to go against the grain of society—and also resisted family pressure—and decided not to baptise me when I was born. They did so because they rightfully argued that it I was the one who had to decide if I wanted to join the cult of Jesus. That position is not all that controversial now in 2025, but it was back in the 80s.
But my lack of faith doesn’t mean that I don’t find myself pondering the big questions about my own life and life in general. Why are we here? What am I doing here? What’s the purpose? Is there even one to be found?
Those are questions that countless people throughout human history have asked themselves, and I’m sure countless more will ask the same questions in the future. Or, given the current state of the world, they’ll likely ask ChatGPT for an answer to those questions.
As you might imagine, I don’t have an answer to those questions. I think nobody really does, and maybe that’s the whole point: asking the question is what’s valuable. The act of figuring out the answer is what gives meaning to the whole process. It propels us, it drives us.
Some people, in their search for meaning and purpose, turn to art: they paint, they write, they photograph. Others become hermits, and they spend their lives in silence and solitude. But there are infinitely other ways in which one can find meaning in life.
To be perfectly honest with you, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here. And by here, I mean on this planet, living my life, day after day. I don’t think I’m alone in this. But what I do know is that I feel a different person when I go up the mountains. And the other day, when a friend of mine expressed his desire to escape the chaos of the city and find some relief from the noise and the hot weather, I was happy to take a day off and drive him up the mountains.
Because every time I go up and I see the world from up there, everything seems to get back into place. I find a very unique sense of inner peace up there, something I don’t find anywhere else. It’s not something I feel when I walk around the woods, it’s not something I find while staring at the flatness of the sea. I can’t really tell you why mountains have this power over me, and, frankly speaking, I’m not sure I even care to figure it out. I just enjoy it.
As for my friend, I’m happy to report that he did find some relief from all the nonsense of daily life up there. And also from the heat. It was a lovely overcast day with 15°C (that’s about 60°F) and a gentle breeze. We walked, we chatted, we listened to the wind. And maybe that’s the reason why I’m here: to enjoy the simple things life has to offer.
— M