The first night in Colorado we boiled up some hot cocoa, grabbed the blankets and binoculars, and drove out on a dusty road to stargaze. With nothing to block our view of the monstrous sky, we each let our eyes wander from star to star as our minds drifted from one wild imagining to another. I'm always particularly curious about the nature of Time when I peer back through the ages in the sky.
Sometimes I think about how Time as we experience it cannot be measured if you take away the constant variable of the Earth's rotation. How communication with a distant star is impossible, considering the length of time it would take for a message to probe through space...and the liklihood of receiving a message in return while there's still life remaining on our own planet. How if there's life on a distant planet right now, we would be like ships passing in the night. Distance and Time will never allow us to meet. Time is a concept I can't fathom, but when I look at the heavens I try with all my puny might to assemble the puzzle.
Small brains were not meant for such attempts.
This moment. And this moment. And this moment. They will never meet. And I will never have them again as I plunge further along my road. I think of myself as a shriveling woman, unable to return to my youth. Will that make me sad? Or will I finally accept the nature of it all?
I am like a satellite, spinning in a spiral around a core of Time. Starting at the beginning, following an inevitable path towards the end. The end is a real as the beginning, but I have to wait patiently for it to be unveiled.
I want to live a good life.
