I was recently making a dent in my sofa after doing some cleaning and tidying. I felt I’d earned it. I let my body go like a sail with air through it, and just relaxed. I was tempted to turn the radio or TV on. But for some reason I didn’t. I just stopped.
I listened to the voices inside my head. You know, the voices we all have but choose to ignore. The random thoughts. The reflections.
And as listened, realised there was so much more in there than empty space or jumbled thoughts.
My mind was playing pictures, images, words, thoughts. I could see them all happening at once, like a movie playing in the infinite cinema of my imagination. Thoughts I was ashamed of, concerns, ideas, responsibilities…my mind was full and it was playing them like a montage to me, so quickly I barely had time to acknowledge them all.
In the silence I could hear the sounds of the world. Cars driving down the road. People in their everyday conversations as they walked past my flat. Single and multiple birds chirping their unique and instantly forgotten songs.
People and animals all journeying on their own stories.
And somehow, the world seemed both bigger and smaller. As I thought on the vastness of my own mind, and how much information and almost infinite depth it has, the outside world seemed small.
But as I heard all the noises of the outside world, of people living their stories, I suddenly felt very small. Like I was merely one more stories in billions of stories all happening at once, and only occasionally intertwining – some people’s more than others.
Yet within this vastness of creation, there is the vastness of each individual.
The endless mystery of the human mind and soul. The untold, unseen depths to each individual.
And as I reflected on these, I saw an divine perspective. How the story of our lives is merely one in 6 billion going on in this world, and how this world is only one part of an endlessly expanding universe with mysteries and stories yet unseen.
This story is part of yet another, larger story. The story of time itself. Time, the great unraveller of mysteries, the one who outlasts all of us mortals.
And of course, all of these mysteries and stories are all part of one bigger story. The greatest mystery of all. The one who wrote all these stories and intertwined them majestically before time, before creation itself. The mystery we can never hope to understand, comprehend, experience or know completely.
The story of God.
Time, the universe, the earth and our souls.
Mysteries within mysteries. Stories within stories.
Going on endlessly, even as we sit at home having our dinner. Going onwards relentlessly even as we sleep. So little is in our control in many ways. But in others, so much.
Everything is a mystery. Yet so often we want to control it all. (you can tweet that here)
With knowledge. Religion. Even our imagination.
But none of these are adequate. Time and creation themselves are beyond our understanding. We can never know all things.
Which is not to say we should stop trying. We are created with this divine longing to explore, to learn, to grow, to understand more.
We should always be indulging this longing. Learning. Growing. Understanding. Going deeper.
The beauty of this divine longing is it can never truly be satisfied.
Maybe truly fearing God is simply about recognising at once we are an infinite, mysterious soul…but also acknowledging we are also part of stories and mysteries which are far beyond us and we can never hope to fully explain or understand.
Relationship with God is to indulge this longing. Yearning to know more the the mystery and be immersed more in the story.
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