Hard as it might be to imagine, I have come to believe that life – with all its bumps, bruises, and kicks in the shins – is thoroughly unbiased and eternally fair. It can afford to be. Its vested interest in me is minuscule, even though mine in it is very grand indeed.
Life’s not out to get us any more than it’s out to get the slug in your garden or the tree standing next to my fence. Despite all our grandiose dreams, you and I are simply two very tiny and insignificant pieces of its puzzle. We hardly warrant its notice.
We may or may not like the hands we feel life has dealt us, yet we’ve no one to blame for how we play those hands but ourselves. Most of the time we don’t play them very well, do we? And so we blame our short-comings on everything outside ourselves. Mostly we blame them on life, since it’s the one thing we can count on not to get vindictive with us.
The fact of the matter is that, despite blame being just what it is – it doesn’t phase life in the slightest. Life just smiles, shrugs its broad shoulders, and shakes its all-knowing head.
Humans. What are you going to do about them?
And so, seemingly learning little of what life tries to teach us, we wage our battles ever more madly . . trampling all in our path. We kill our dreams. We destroy our sensitivities. And we demand compensation for our sloppiness in the face of all that’s beautiful around us.
What foolish, foolish beings we are – we people.
And the universe don’t pay us no mind . .
Even more, the universe – that which is over, under, around, and beyond all life – doesn’t care in the least about you or me. Why should it? What’s humanity done for it in the last few thousand years . . aside from leaving our junk behind?
We don’t seem to give a damn about it. And it’s more than willing to return the favor. (Given the option, it would probably be just as willing to thoroughly disown humanity lock, stock and barrel. Yet, since we refuse to leave, it mostly just ignores us . . and hopes for the best.)
After all, the universe knows it will outlast us. That gives it some degree of satisfaction.
And yet it wonders how such an insignificant species as we should grow to be so annoying.
Oh sure, a very few of our number have exhibited a creative genius throughout the millennium. And that’s been fun for the world writ large. (The universe DOES have a playful streak, you know.)
Yet, for the most part, by universal standards, we humans have displayed little more than a seriously unfiltered tendency to blow things up, burn things down, eat our young as well as our old, and generally ignore our place in the greater scheme of things.
Sad, really. From a universal perspective, I’m sure we were seen to have had such potential when first drawn into being. It kind of makes you wonder how such a fragile and strange looking, yet curious, species as ours could go so far off the course we’ve imagined for ourselves.
Then again, the universe has other, much larger, things to worry about. Black holes. Splits in the space time continuum.
And humanity’s been creating its own story line for so long – without so much as a mention of the universe that formed it. I’m sure even the most generous of universes would eventually lose patience. Some would even turn their backs.
So, I Must Care . .
And so, I care. I must. For I am part of that human package the universe once opened with such delight. I am part of all that is and all that ever shall be.
Neither life nor the greater universe can dissociate from me, for at a very personal level we are one and the same. Sure, the universe may shudder at the thought, but it’s true. Disconnected though we may be from one another, we will never be separate.
And so I believe there’s hope for humanity. I believe we still tickle the universal consciousness with our imaginations. I believe that the stories we wrap ourselves in when we’re feeling lonely and cold are the stories the universe has been waiting for us to speak.
I believe that, even if the universe truly doesn’t care for or about the physicality of me – the human being . . Even if life doesn’t care a whit about my dreams or my fears . . That my caring may be enough.
And if it isn’t? I’ll be none the less for it. In fact, I’ll be all the more. And the story that I am will spread out across the face of the cosmos. And God will smile.
And that will be enough – for me. What about you?
Keep growing my friend,
Gail
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{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
And the universe chuckles and, continues to unfold and, in passing wonders, who are these silly little creatures?
Exactly. But that’s the universal conundrum, my friend: The universe chuckles and continues to do exactly what it was doing. After all, what are these silly little creatures . . to interfere with a picture that’s so very much bigger than they? And yet, these silly little creatures – these people – these WE – do just that, don’t we? You just have to wonder at the audacity of it all.