How many coincidences do you need before you see a pattern? I return to that question over and over, knowing I’m way past that number, knowing I can’t explain it, knowing that I see things hear things know things am things….so many things.

It’s like hearing a chord of music that’s just out of your range. You can tell me it isn’t there, I know what I hear. Like having x-ray vision…how many correctly diagnosed broken bones do you need? How many correctly diagnosed hairline fractures? Enough, I say, enough, and it’s like the world says no, we need to show you again. You need to KNOW. You need to carry it into your bones screaming, you need the note in your head to become music, YOU NEED THIS, and I can only reel from it all, because it is all so, so, SO much bigger than me.

It is beautiful and kind, like the kiss of a mother goodnight. It is frightening and terrifying, like a creature from a nightmare brought to life. It is so many things, so many extremes, and I wish I could show you. I wish I could give you just a flash of these things, and then I wonder if it would drive you crazy. I wonder if I’m crazy. I wonder if the whole world is crazy.

I wonder if crazy is such a terrible thing.

I’m standing on the edge of a very deep abyss. I mean, sometimes it is. Sometimes I’m at the base of a very large cliff. Sometimes I can see things moving off in the distance, sometimes beautiful, sometimes terrifying. I have trouble looking away. They are what they are, they don’t notice me. I’m not important enough for them. Not yet. Maybe someday. Or maybe never. They’re not the important thing anyway.

I am so many things…I am wild energy spinning in place. I am so motionless I see sunlight and wind before they happen. My world moves so slowly the flap of a bird’s wing takes a full minute. I move so slowly I am a rock, dancing.

I am all of these things and none of them. I wish you could touch this thing I am. I wish I could share it like the smell of mown grass, or the heat of pavement in the summertime. I wish I could give you this gift. I feel like every part of me is exploding like the universe, and I suppose I am. So are you. So are all of us, all at once, but we’ve forgotten. We’ve forgotten that we’re hurtling through space on a spinning rock, that we are constantly in motion, that everything is connected to everything else, that sunlight is one of the most beautiful things in the world. That the laughter of children holds something precious we cannot touch or see. We hear it, we like it, we want to hear more of it because it pleases us, but listen here, at this motionless moment where everything stops.

So beautiful. And we are so very, VERY small.

And in us, in each of us is that exploding moment, where we are exploding still. Each of us expanding as fast as our hearts will allow.

Go faster. It’s beautiful here.

Go Faster.