Maybe the point is that we’re free. Free because this entire experience is temporary.
Sometimes I lie in bed and think about how big everything is. Not “big” like a city skyline. Not “big” like the ocean. I mean big big. The kind of big where there are more stars in the universe than grains of sand on Earth. The kind of big where our entire planet is basically a floating speck. The kind of big that makes your problems feel… a little quieter. And yet today I was stressed about: A text that felt slightly off. Whether I said something weird. If I’m behind in life. If I’m doing enough. If I’m becoming enough. It’s funny, isn’t it? We wake up on a planet spinning at 1,000 miles per hour, orbiting a star that could swallow Earth whole, inside a galaxy that’s one of billions… and I’m worried about how I looked when I laughed too loud. Being human is kind of dramatic. We zoom all the way in. On the typo. On the silence. On the look someone gave us. On the version of ourselves we think we should be by now. But when you zoom out, really zoom out, everything softens. In...