It’s funny what we focus on from day-to-day. The things that take up residence in our conscious and label themselves as “important” or even just “noteworthy,” let alone “urgent” – are they really so large?
A year from now, are you going to remember that time you were late paying a bill? Ten years from now, are you going to remember how much you wanted that shiny new electronic toy, or how excited you were about a new movie? Are you even going to remember the movie? Will you still own the toy, presuming you bought it in the first place?
Are you going to remember the argument you had with your significant other over something insignificant – dirty laundry or forgotten errands or God knows what?
Why is it that we let these petty things take up so much residence in our minds? Why do we give them so much energy?
I would much rather be contemplating the meaning of life than finances. The Otherworld than politics. The potential of multiple universes than carpet cleaner. But I find myself, like anyone else, pondering pet stain products and banging my head over some pol’s latest foot-in-mouth disease, wondering how THAT guy or gal could possibly represent anybody. Really, where do they find these people?
It’s when I have these moments of clarity, when I can see that I’ve been hunched over the desk of Little Thoughts for too long, and I sit up and take a long stretch and rub the fog from my eyes, that I can see the vast expanse of possibility. The potential of Multiple Universes. The potential of Me. I take a deep breath, and I am breathing in Everything. I want to weep at the trillions of stars that the city lights of my encapsulated mind blind me to most days. I want to have this view all the time.
And then something calls me back, I get distracted, and before I know it, I’m hunched over the desk again, plugging away at one tiny cog in a massive machine that is Life.
But every once in a while… when you get up from your desk, climb up to the rooftop, and just admire the view… those are the moments that are worth it.
Those are the moments when I look around, and I want to grab everyone else at their desk and turn off all the lights so they can see the stars, too.
Those are the moments when part of me is overjoyed at the whole works, the whole system, this wondrous, unimaginable thing we couldn’t describe in words if we tried – and part of me wonders if I’m not all alone in it, floating in a tiny rowboat amid the stars, the only one who will ever see it from this vantage point. Or perhaps others may, but we’ll never be in the same harbor at the same time and be able to discuss the rapture of the multiverse.
They say that no two beings are ever in the same time and space together. You and I could be standing two feet apart, and we won’t be in the same time and space. Time and space are divisible into such tiny slivers, that even our own bodies are not in the same place at the same time. My fingers that are typing this and my brain that is sending the signals to do so are in two different places, at two different times. My pinky finger is in a different space and time than my ring finger. Every fiber of my being, though connected, is literally in a different moment of time than the fiber next to it. And I wonder if we will ever feel whole.
Or if we will ever fully understand what overwhelmingly beautiful and powerful creatures we are. Whether you think we make or are made, or both – we are. And each one of us is a conglomeration of multiple times in space all working together to create a larger being that is us. And we consciously direct that symphony of time that is our bodies to work together for a unified purpose.
We manipulate space and time, all the time. And we don’t even know we can do it. We just do it, instinctively.
Magnificent beings, aren’t we?