There is an interesting J.L. Borges story about an object called the Zahir. As far as I remember it, it appears as many things for people (a tiger, a blind man, an astrolabe), and it kind of represents deep fascination toward one’s object of focus, as a kind of mystical absorption, which parallels a wonder of the whole. The aspects of a thing which, by the open possibility of comparisons, seems unending. It plays with the theme of infinity by borrowing from Borges’ adjacent stories (the Aleph, The Library of Babylon).
No thing appears outside of the contextual web of its conditional relations. We can close in, simplify, abstract, but the thing in itself is too full, in relation and potential to the world by which it receives its meaning.
Think of a the concept of a tree (its peculiar connections in your personal brain). You might require to the rest of the world define it. The more background information lost, the more meaning the tree may lose.
Simplification to the abstract, to cut away in focus, makes things intelligible but there is always a sense for persists outside of that, the potential of projecting unnecessary meanings, the lack that aches us to do the work of understanding, which recyles like any other periodicity of nature. Our desire to know in some sense is a kind of affliction because we are never content to end in the meditation of any thing.
Perhaps the question of why there is anything at all rather than nothing, characterizes this excessive feeling of wanting to know what is unknowable. Even if we were gifted an answer we wouldn’t be satisfied.
But maybe this has nothing to do with the question.
The universe is at the same time intelligible, but that mode of abstraction reduces it into something much less than it is, a part/representation that can be grasped/viewed, but remains fuzzy is its (in)exhaustible potentiality.