Willy-nilly

Into this Universe, and Why not knowing  Nor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing;  And out of it, as Wind along the Waste,  I know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing. Stanza XXXII of “Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam” by Edward Fitzgerald (1809–1883)

Sympatheia

In the course of a lifetime, exploratory craft have barely cleared the solar system, which is adrift in the great fiery wheel of our galaxy. If the number of stars are uncountable, how much more are the number of galaxies? It’s both terrifying and beautiful. The immensity of the Universe only underscores how small we are. Yet, it’s where we live. 

Since we are small, how much smaller are the things that trouble us? We are made for each other, not in spite of one another. “That fewer still, in public affairs, act to the good of mankind.” (Benj. Franklin) Despite all that space we have to spread out, this little planet is all we are given on which to thrive. Marvel in it, marvel at it, but be grateful for what (and who) you have. Nothing is resolved by strife.


Next time someone asks you where you are from or where you live, simply say, “I’m your neighbor.”




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