Compared to the vastness of space, the birthday of a human organism is just a speck of dust.  Maybe not even as large as a speck.  Perhaps that’s why we cling to the notion that its celebration is important, to remind ourselves that as insignificant as we are, we still hold a place in the universal fabric.

The void is large, so large that it boggles the mind (if the mind actually exists to be boggled).  The loneliness of space drives us to cherish one another, if only long enough to banish fear.  Once calmed, we forget about the reasons for the embrace and chafe under the confinement.  We criticize and penalize ourselves and others, and jeopardize the fragile vehicle that has graciously carried us safely in orbit.

A regular reminder, whether it’s daily or annual, of who we are and why we are here is useful to balance those swings between terror and arrogance.  We are hurtling together at high speed through endless space.  Why quibble over the small stuff?  What good is wealth and power if it comes at the expense of the beings one sought to love?  What good are social relationships if they exist only to mask worthlessness and the fear of being alone?

We might be small but we have meaning.  We might have meaning but it is small.  No matter how it’s perceived, it is still a rare gift, one that deserves celebrating every day.  You may not like the accommodations or your traveling companions, but this train doesn’t make any stops until the very end.  Enjoy the ride.


One Response to “51 TRIPS AROUND THE SUN”

  1. Yes, again
    thank you for this

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