Why is there something instead of nothing, and how am I involved in it?

For a long time I have been fascinated by what we humans commonly call existence: the curious happening in which things appear and disappear in ever smaller and greater cycles. This happening that underlies everything is most often overlooked in human lives, especially in modern societies that thrive on ideas of growth, advancement and continuity. I find it highly peculiar that so few of us ever stop to observe and contemplate our own existence. The matter is typically disregarded and thought to be reserved for scientists, philosophers or spiritual seekers. This forces me to ponder that either we are not as advanced a species as we believe, or we are just confused. I would place my bets on the latter.

I have always been more of a silent, withdrawing and observant kind rather than active and exuberant. Sometimes, over the years, it has been difficult for me to cope in society with all its sound and fury, as well as the pressure to conform and be sociable. Vice versa, it must have been challenging for others to cope with such a silent and introverted person as I have frequently proven to be. I have learned to play by the rules of human society, often at the expense of my inherent nature.

A certain yearning for solitude has been a healing factor in my life, and also, I believe, the major contributor to the books I have written. Quite a lot of time has been spent in this lifetime gazing silently at the dance of a crackling fire, the endless vortices in a river, and trees swaying gently in the wind. When I was a small boy, the stars in the sky were a source of mystical marvels for me: so distant and small, and yet so bright and present.

In my writings I have found myself repeatedly coming back to the same questions that have puzzled philosophers and scientists throughout the ages. Why is there something instead of nothing? How, and to what degree, am I involved in this something?

One could approach these questions through a more common image. What is a leaf to a tree? The leaf might seem separate from the tree, yet it still bears within it the essence of the tree. Likewise, the tree still bears the essence of a seed, and so on, until we stumble upon the essence of nothingness. Correspondingly, I am here inquiring into existence as a leaf of existence. How weird and wonderful is that.

Another way of putting these questions is an inquiry that spontaneously arose one day while strolling in Lapland's wintry forests with my dog. How did I end up here? This question expected no idea of causality as an answer. It had nothing to do with the past or the future, where I came from and where I am going. Instead it dived right into the heart of the present moment.

This is in no way a book you should read in hopes of finding any truth or salvation. Instead, these pages encourage you to commence your own inquiry into reality, which will potentially shake you awake from a dream.