There aren't many things in life I can say I know for certain. That's a very disconcerting thought.
Certainly, I think I know what has happened to me in the past, but that knowledge is tainted by my understanding at the time. I think I know what is happening to me and my surroundings at each point in time as it passes. Again, that knowledge is filtered through the lens of my current understanding. Ironically, that lens is constantly being shaped and honed by every situation I experience and every opinion I encounter. And, we all like to plan ahead, to peer into our future and avoid painful events, to anticipate and increase the odds of pleasant experiences. All to satisfy this constant thirst to know, to have something solid to cling to. Something to quell the fear that shakes our bones and sours our stomachs. So I guess you could say the quest for knowledge is driven by the desire for stability.
Anticipation of painful events is called worry, and it rarely helps. In fact, many times it drags us down and increases the likelihood of pain. Worry is a phantom of the mind. There is no substance to it. Yes, there may have been very real voices to the echos of the past that haunt us, but the future is not the past. We cannot know the evils of the future ... there is no stability in worry.
I suppose you could call anticipation of pleasant experiences hope. That can be a good thing. With hope, we can maintain our strength in the rough patches of life. But, really, hope is only an illusion ... a mirage on the horizon. Sometimes there is substance behind the mirage, and regardless, it pulls us on through to better times. But, we cannot know the joys and riches that the future holds ... there is no stability in hope.
However, there is one piece of knowledge that every living (cogent) creature on Earth can lay claim to. We will, every one of us, cease to exist. We cannot know when, how, or even why, but we can know it.
At this point, I suppose I should acknowledge that there are those who
profess to know the future. Unfortunately, they have no evidence to
support this claim, and thus cannot impart that knowledge to anyone
else. If I believe what someone else has told me, but which I cannot
experience myself, that is not knowledge. It is belief, and I do not
disregard or discredit belief. But, belief is not the same thing as
knowledge.
So, in a sea of doubt, worry, apprehension, anticipation, hope, belief, and striving, will this one plank of knowledge rescue me? If the only thing I can truly know is that I will cease to exist at some time in the future, is there any help for me in that knowledge?
I don't know, and that's a very disconcerting thought.
" ... and I still haven't found what I'm looking for."