Made in Cosmos

I get into the boat. The water immediately gets violent and stormy. Black clouds come out of nowhere, the shore is suddenly out of my reach. Tall waves crash onto the boat and rock it in every direction.

I see my parents in the water, barely keeping their heads above the surface. They’re shouting at me in despair, too far away for me to reach them. I get a sense that they’re both hoping I would save them.

I am their only hope.

Both of my parents are struggling, each is struggling in their own way, and they’re both looking up to me from below. There’s nothing I can do to help them.

“Of course, it’s always about the parents.”–I think. They had high expectations of me even before I was born. Every time I failed to live up to these expectations, I felt like I failed them. I felt I didn’t deserve to be loved.

“Do you want to go deeper?”–I hear a voice behind me. Someone is in the boat with me. At the same time, he’s also completely unaffected by the storm and the sea, floating effortlessly a few inches above the deck. His gold and crimson red armor is shining against the background of black clouds.

I nod, and a cyclone comes and swallows everything. It lifts the boat, the water, and everyone in it in a whirling spiral. I’m rising high above the raging sea, the waves, and the eye of the cyclone. For a brief moment, it gets really peaceful up here.

I look down. The waves below are forming a spiral now. My parents are still there in the water, along with their parents, and their parents, and so many people I don’t even know. Entire generations are spinning right in front of my eyes, struggling to hold their heads above the surface, stretching back to infinity. I feel the weight of all this history, expectations, and unresolved drama on my shoulders. It’s up to me what I do with it now.

I steer my boat towards the center of this whirlpool. There’s a massive black hole right in the middle of it. I can see it now that everyone is desperately trying to keep themselves afloat, holding onto anything, whatever it takes to survive. The black hole is slowly swallowing the water and everything in it. Nothing can escape its gravitational pull.

I jump off my boat and take a plunge, right into the middle of the black hole. The waves take my breath away.

I’m floating freely in outer space, surrounded by stars, nebulas and galaxies. A faerie of colors dances around my head. There’s no more struggle, no more turbulent wind or waves. I am at peace. I am at home.

I look back in the direction I came from. I can see a tunnel with light at the end of it. I enter the tunnel and see its walls are made out of waters I just crossed. I’m floating through the tunnel, passing by my ancestors and everyone who ever lived on Earth. The light gets brighter and brighter.

I feel the light embrace me whole.

Every part of my body starts dancing.

A thought comes to my mind, how can I be dancing when all these people are still there, trapped in the water, running in circles, struggling to survive? People I know, people I love, I feel the urge to come back down and rescue them. The light keeps shining in my face, brighter and brighter. I can see nothing but the light.

“Your only task right now is to rest in this light.” I don’t know who said it but I know it is true. “No matter what happens, no matter what kind of disasters are happening down there, all I ask of you is to stay right here and rest in the light.”

I feel it shining on my face. I realize my urge to leave this place and help everyone else isn’t just because I don’t feel I am enough, that I don’t accept myself. It’s also because I don’t accept life, I don’t accept the world exactly as it is. So many things are happening which I think should not happen. So many people are hurting and I don’t want them to be hurt.

I keep dancing to the drum.

I look back at the whirling waters, and all the people stuck in them, suffering and afraid, and I see everything is exactly as it should be.

This is all a part of the dance.

This is all a part of the dance.

I want to lose myself in the dance completely, but at the same time I want to remember. I want to share this story, not because I hope it will help someone, but because I feel that this is my role to play in this dance, this is what I’m here to do. I’m learning to be the dance and watch the dance, to both fully lose myself and fully remember.

I can see how all the people struggling in the water are having a hard time accepting life as it is. So many people trying to change the world, pulling in all directions, building things, destroying things, creating new structures, protesting against structures, running into distractions, running into prayer, running around overwhelmed. So many different kinds of busy.

This is all perfect.

This is all a part of the dance.

I want to tell everyone they don’t need to struggle this hard. They don’t need to push and pull against the natural course of things.

The light is shining on my face, and I know. It is not my job to do this.

My only job is to rest in this light.

My only job is to keep dancing.

My only job is to keep dancing.