I hope to God you are God.
“We are nothing like we were a second ago,” he wrote.
Not only are we incomparably and utterly different from who we were, we cease to exist now as we were seconds ago. We are continuously nothing, transitioning from being to non-being. Just as quickly as we began, we ended. Just as quickly as we were something, we are now nothing. Just as we were nothing to begin with, that transient state of existence presented itself and is nothing now. Created and discarded, lost, gone, replaced by the new. Quickly does the future take the place of the past, so quickly as though they are one.
I try to define myself and my identity when it is impossible. How can you pin down something that changes? When taking a photo of flashing lights in a darkened room, trying to capture the way the lights outline the faces of your friends leaning against the wall with the bed post inches above their heads, it is a magical moment that cannot be caught the way it is. The shutter is always a little too late. Labels are temporary. ‘Favourites’ are temporary. Everything is TEMPORARY. The fact is: I am changing. I am new. Again and again I am new. I multiply. Or there are multitudes in me.
“There is infinity in everything”, I say. Infinity is too big, too heavy for my understanding. Eternal God, you are in everything.
I want to melt into the sidewalk,
a mark on the concrete that cannot feel
the weight of shoes and wheels and tires.
Or better yet, a particle of dust,
swimming in the open air,
spiraling through immeasurable distances,
suspended in sunlight and
caressed by warmth.
It is eternity in a moment.
I want to settle into the soil
and be compressed into crystal
or travel through legs
of weeds and greedy roots.
Then become lavender, magenta, tulip-
with no purpose but to wave,
look pretty and
be fragile on stalks lifted to the sky.
I want to be a tireless wave,
rolling on a routinely schedule,
rocking to a universal lullaby.
My storms carry no anger
and I am blameless in destruction.
I want to be the ocean.
But I also want to flirt with the moon,
feel fingers run through my hair,
and bask in tender affection.
If only I could be something else
and both at the same time.
I always forget that the most important part of who I am should not be a part of me but all of me. I am a believer of God and a follower of Christ and I must remember that my identity rests in Him.
My purpose is to perfect His will. That is what gets me through when I am bored and tired of living (I guess I’m impatient and prone to resignation), questioning what sort of significance I even have in the universe. There is a point to this.
And don’t I ever forget it.