But in the arts and humanities, that’s what we do — read into things! There’s always another level of insight to discover. Some want to explore the essence of a person or an experience by writing poetry or music. Others paint or dance to share their emotions. Many want to make sense of something they’ve read or listened to. What does the story or song really mean? As I like to say to students, a parable in a religious text isn’t just a story, say, about some guy on a donkey: There’s a message there, and as a reader you need to figure out the meaning.

Yet, conscious thought can approach, but not fully explain, the ethereal. The Nobel Prize-winning author Ernest Hemingway once wrote, “I know that the night is not the same as the day: that all things are different, that the things of the night cannot be explained in the day, because they do not then exist and the night can be a dreadful time for lonely people once their loneliness has started.” I have often puzzled over this passage from “A Farewell to Arms.” I can’t pull it apart like an engine and explain with certainty how all the parts work. It is probably about love and loneliness and the human psyche. But there is something darkly transcendent not so easily identified.

In this regard, work in the arts and humanities can seem too focused on finding what’s not there. But the impulse to seek answers is a human universal, no matter the discipline. November, for example, can be a season of snow-covered high-country forests and sagebrush basins. If you get out, you’re likely to see lots of animal tracks. Tracks can seem like indecipherable scrapes on the snow. A person might see these and understand nothing. But tracks do represent a hidden world. A person skilled at “reading into” tracks can learn much, including when that animal passed by, its size, health, intention. Was the animal intent on finding food? Water? Sunshine? Was it on the run or just moseying along? Good naturalists and hunters can make sense out of these patterns in the snow.

Most readers of this op-ed probably are not hunters in the literal sense of the word. But I would bet many are hunters of a different kind: hunters of meaning, of truth, of understanding in some form. The challenge in the arts and humanities is that understanding can be elusive and ever-changing. You can’t always put a wrench on a loose bolt to alleviate mental suffering, for example, though Weber State University recently was recognized as 1 of 12 universities in the nation that show a strong commitment to student mental health and well-being! We know from research that students cite mental health issues as their No. 1 obstacle to succeeding in school. Sometimes, as the passage from Hemingway suggests, the very source of suffering is mysterious. Often, there’s nothing to do but endure. As the sayings go in these parts: Cowboy up. Cowgirl up. Get back in the saddle. Having such mental toughness in one’s psychic toolkit can help cope with everyday distress and deeper existential pain.

But emotional repression only goes so far. There’s great value in trying to answer those ever-sprouting questions, those tracks in the snow. Arts and humanities courses encourage students to express answers creatively, or consider ideas never pondered and try to make sense of them. That’s important, now and for the arc of a person’s life. Knowing others are out there to connect with intellectually or emotionally strengthens us. Sometimes those people are creators on the other side of a book or a song or a painting — they pass their message through these mediums to us. We are the richer for it. If you’re a student, take an arts and humanities class that helps you see more deeply into things. If you’re a community member, champion these courses at Weber State. Without the skills they teach, our lives can seem like tracks in the snow, full of unanswered questions, leaving us wondering, wishing, waiting for answers that may never come.

Hal Crimmel is a Brady Presidential Distinguished Professor of English who served for nine years as Chair of the English department at Weber State University. He currently serves as the academic director of Concurrent Enrollment.