In the Blink of an Eye

"Because what are we to a star, a star that lives trillions of years?"

Do you ever look at a small child, who cannot even speak yet and think that they will grow up to be a person with a set of interests and values and a personality completely different than the trillions of people who have lived, are living, and will live? Does it even occur in the thoughts of an every day person that so many thing happen all at once, and everything that ever has happened is happening now and at every single instant in the future and past? Because these are the things that hit me in the middle of the day.

We are humans, we live for roughly ninety or a hundred years. We think thats a pretty long time, and we find it significant. But what is one hundred years like cycle to a tree who lives to be a thousand? Maybe its like when a dog who lives ten years dies in relation to a human who lives ten times that. But the tree doesn't care, the tree has no use for the companionship of the humans who seem to think they're so significant, bustling about with their thoughts and dreams and feelings. Thinking it means something. But what is a tree to a rock? A rock who lives to be millions of years old, a chunk of compressed dirt squeezed between the roots of a tree. A tree that will perish in a matter of one thousand years or so. But what is a rock to a human? A rock who exists in a human's life for a matter of seconds, no more. And what is a rock to a star? A star who lives for trillions of years? To that star, the rock is no more significant than a speck of dust that wiggles in the air current on the corner of a room under the bed is to a human. But what is that star to the infinite amount of other stars exactly like it? 

And we think that the things that happen in our life matter, and they do, because they affect us. And even though we are a speck of dust floating through space,  on an even bigger speck of dust, floating around another speck of dust, we are here. We are in the past, present, and future, in every place in every form. Doing and thinking and feeling. Completing small repetitive cycles within our small existence. We breathe, we eat, and we have beating hearts. But in the end our life is gone in the blink of an eye, in whose eyelashes lies the entire universe as we know it and more. Because what are we to a small one-celled organism that dies in the blink of an eye, living in our eyelashes? And what is that small one-celled organism to us, the organism that perishes when the air changes direction. It's nothing, but I bet its thinks itself pretty important. With its thoughts and dreams and feelings, completing its small cycles in its small existence. In the blink of an eye. 

The End

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