In this past year, I went camping way up in the middle of nowhere, where man had not yet touched our precious Earth. After songs and marshmallows, I was left alone in front of a dying campfire, surrounded by the pitch black sounds and comforts of the night; the howl of coyotes, the screeching of owls, the woody smell of burning coals, and the cold air late at night mixed with the heat of the fire. I was completely alone, and I had closure, pulling a warm sweatshirt around me, marshmallow residue still sticky on my fingers. I was at peace, something we as humans struggle with. But as I sat there, think of everything and nothing at once, I looked up.
I looked up and saw stars burning like pinpricks of light against an indigo sky. Our stars and sky were open, both expanded to the edges of forever. Each star was burning millions of kilometers away, taking years to each me. Those stars had probably taken the expanse of my entire young life to reach me, in that exact moment that I looked up.
I was awestruck, at a loss. But I felt so small, staring at the vast abyss of space. I was nothing. The stars had been shining forever before me, and would continue to shine even after I was dust an ash. I was nothing in this weird, wide universe full of majesty and life. I thought about how this Earth had been turning, and the fire in front of me was the smallest bit of light, the tiniest cry into the void. It was a whisper. I was nothing. I was looking up into everything that is, everything that was. I was looking up into forever, reflected in those stars. My entire planet, my entire life meant nothing to those little lights scattered against the sky. I looked up at everything even when my everything was on a little blue-green marble in the darkness.
I was so small, so insignificant. And I was okay with that: that space and the stars cared little for me, that I was merely a side-effect of evolution. Because I was small, and the universe was big. I knew that even on my own tiny planet, that was so grand to me, I meant nothing. I was small on a Earth that was full of endless wonders. In those seconds, the skies were forever, and the Earth was spinning in a black sky, and I was full of possibilities. I could do anything, be anyone. The Earth was small, and so was I, but my soul was big, and my heart was open, and I was my own side-effect in my little clearing in front of a dying fire.
