I saw someone talk about the mysteries around us, and he implicitly made a distinction between what’s not a mystery (what we apparently know) and what’s a mystery (what we don’t know).
That’s not wrong, but it’s also a somewhat false distinction.
The mystery is equally much in what we think we know as what we don’t know.
We never know anything for certain. There is always more to discover about anything – new views, information, underlying assumptions, contexts, and so on.
Reality is infinitely rich and will always surprise us.
When we discover that, there is a sense of mystery, awe, and sense of adventure here in anything and everything.
And really, it’s something we admit to ourselves. We always knew. The child in us always knew that we don’t know anything for certain and there is always more to discover.