Leibniz posed it in 1714: "Why is there something rather than nothing? For nothing is simpler and easier than something." It is the most fundamental question in philosophy — and the most vertiginous. Every answer seems to either presuppose existence (invoking God, or the laws of physics, or some prior state — all of which exist) or to dissolve the question without answering it.
The question has a peculiar quality: it cannot be answered from within existence, because any answer you give will be an existing thing explaining existence — which seems circular. And it cannot be answered from outside existence, because there is no outside. The question seems to trap thought in a loop from which there is no escape — which is perhaps exactly the point.
Heidegger called it "the ground-question of metaphysics" — and argued that the reason we do not ask it more often is not that we have answered it but that we have forgotten how to be astonished by existence. The fact that anything exists at all — that there is a world, that there are trees and stars and the experience of reading these words — is the most extraordinary fact imaginable. We pass it by every day without noticing, like people who have lived so long beside a waterfall that they no longer hear it.