In the Beginning Was Longing.
That’s how old it is. Before there was a word, there was the deep feeling of longing. More than once the Universe collapsed into itself from the weight of its longing.
Compressed down into a grain of sand. One that weighed trillions of whatever is heavier in imagination than a pound or a kilo.
Dense with this weight of everything that ever was. It still longed for more. For closeness, ironically. For intimacy. For light. For beauty.
It forgot what it was made of. Forgot all the colors that came before. Forgot how beautiful empty space could be.
We always want something else. Something more. Something out of reach.
Something not us. We want to get away from ourselves and live inside another person, another place, another time.
And then we come to define ourselves by this longing. Maybe it is time to not do that. Or maybe not. What if longing is the Universe’s superpower. The driver of everything that’s ever been.
What if it was longing that also caused it to explode into trillions of tiny holograms so it could remember what it was like to find beauty.
