I give about as much credence to organized spirituality as I give to something like serendipity or fate. It’s just how I am. That being said, I have a hard time not seeing meaning in certain things. For
instance, the frequency with which a bright and shining object comes
back into view, repeatedly, after the same period of years, has to be
more than just a coincidence. There has to be a reason why it happens.
At the age of 21, I didn't understand a lot of things. I was a little over a year away from a disastrous relationship that challenged what I thought was real about the nature of the universe. I was complaining that most interactions were flippant and lacked the stimulating nature I was seeking out. I was not built for that kind of reckless abandon that was customary in that setting. I wanted something deeper and meaningful. I wanted something luminescent. I wanted something not found in everyday life.
So, as I lamented my lack of luck, my coworker told me this story about a comet. Now, I didn't give much credence to this story because after all, it's a comet. It's like all the other comets in the universe, but he insisted this one was special. He said it was probably the brightest, most beautiful, and coolest object that I would ever see my lifetime and that it was making its way back into view. "Trust me, you'll love it." Was what he said.
Eventually, I forgot all about the story, and went on with my life. I had found, what I thought was, a bright object of my own, but I didn't know it was false light. As I was once again, in a state of despair, I was sitting in the darkness and something came out of nowhere. It was the comet. It was everything my friend said and much, much more. I wanted to reach out grab a hold of that comet, but, it was an impossible feat, given my place in the universe at that particular time. But, can you really catch a comet?
Unlikely. It moves too fast. It slips away too easily. And you can't tell a comet to wait until you catch up, because even if you could speak in the awesomeness of the space that it occupies, your words would make no sound. It doesn’t matter, anyways. It’s a comet and doesn’t know what it is. It has no concept of your admiration for it. It wouldn't understand the words you would use to describe it. It just tears up the skyline, blinding you from afar, giving you glimpses of what could be. Even if you could reason with a comet, you're stuck where you're at and it's on its way through the universe. And try as you might, to slip the surly bonds of Earth, you'd be lucky to see the comet still in view once you finally reach escape velocity.
Every so many years, that comet comes back. You either spy it, or somehow it just shows up looking to be found. For a brief moment, you can appreciate it from afar. You may even think you can get close enough to finally catch it, but again, you're waiting for that rocket to break free and the comet is moving faster than you. Always moving.
Is it coincidence, or predestined path that will continually intersect with you? How much time do you have before the comet disappears forever? And does the comet care? After all, it's a comet. It's not made for this world.
At the age of 21, I didn't understand a lot of things. I was a little over a year away from a disastrous relationship that challenged what I thought was real about the nature of the universe. I was complaining that most interactions were flippant and lacked the stimulating nature I was seeking out. I was not built for that kind of reckless abandon that was customary in that setting. I wanted something deeper and meaningful. I wanted something luminescent. I wanted something not found in everyday life.
So, as I lamented my lack of luck, my coworker told me this story about a comet. Now, I didn't give much credence to this story because after all, it's a comet. It's like all the other comets in the universe, but he insisted this one was special. He said it was probably the brightest, most beautiful, and coolest object that I would ever see my lifetime and that it was making its way back into view. "Trust me, you'll love it." Was what he said.
Eventually, I forgot all about the story, and went on with my life. I had found, what I thought was, a bright object of my own, but I didn't know it was false light. As I was once again, in a state of despair, I was sitting in the darkness and something came out of nowhere. It was the comet. It was everything my friend said and much, much more. I wanted to reach out grab a hold of that comet, but, it was an impossible feat, given my place in the universe at that particular time. But, can you really catch a comet?
Unlikely. It moves too fast. It slips away too easily. And you can't tell a comet to wait until you catch up, because even if you could speak in the awesomeness of the space that it occupies, your words would make no sound. It doesn’t matter, anyways. It’s a comet and doesn’t know what it is. It has no concept of your admiration for it. It wouldn't understand the words you would use to describe it. It just tears up the skyline, blinding you from afar, giving you glimpses of what could be. Even if you could reason with a comet, you're stuck where you're at and it's on its way through the universe. And try as you might, to slip the surly bonds of Earth, you'd be lucky to see the comet still in view once you finally reach escape velocity.
Every so many years, that comet comes back. You either spy it, or somehow it just shows up looking to be found. For a brief moment, you can appreciate it from afar. You may even think you can get close enough to finally catch it, but again, you're waiting for that rocket to break free and the comet is moving faster than you. Always moving.
Is it coincidence, or predestined path that will continually intersect with you? How much time do you have before the comet disappears forever? And does the comet care? After all, it's a comet. It's not made for this world.
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