I was sixteen, or so when I became very aware of, and intrigued by the existence of the universe, by the fact that our completely insignificant size-wise planet Earth was floating within an infinite, mysterious space, and that humans were living on that spec of dust. I would often wonder, and that was not something my generation was very into, is anyone else out there, or are we the only ones within that infinite cosmic space? I was firmly convinced that could not be so.
The more I questioned the reason behind the existence of humans and the cosmos, the more convinced I was there must be an explanation, and the more mystified I was to realized no one actually cared about that. Instinctively, not for a moment would I consider even the possibility that, as we were told in church, a supernatural god made all this appear out of nothing, and I knew only science could provide a rational logical explanation for everything. However, that explanation was missing, and scientists did not have actually a clue. In fact, I perceived the theory of evolution as something that made as much sense as the story about god creating the world in six days by simply snapping his divine fingers. There was not much of a difference between the miracles of the Genesis and the just-so miracles of gradualism.