Space. We occupy it mindlessly but when we feel it, our stomachs drop. We don’t want to be alone, so we take precautions to mind the gap and form as many connections as possible to close the distance between ourselves and the space that follows us. It becomes impulsive to the point where we don’t even realize the webs we have created. It’s passionate and stunning, this intricate web, but moreover, it is cautious. In moments of rebellion, we starve for space, for a different kind of security. We look up at outer space, (how can you be outside of space anyway?) or look down at the seemingly infinite blue depths, and it stirs something inside of us. It humbles us, this vacant space. It seeps in through the pores and embraces us, and we embrace it too to realize that we were not in rebellion at all, but instead on a path of progression towards revolution; not a revolution of revolt, but one of metamorphosis.
If you could zoom through space at the speed of light, where would you go right now?
I would take myself under the stars to a moment so serene and I would occupy it completely. I would go to this place under the stars where I am utterly engulfed by awe, where all light is real, genuine, and true, and I would lay there. Thoughts wouldn’t stir and neither would the wind. The Milky Way would wind itself before me and I would thank Earth for the space I borrow.
I felt safe in the tent in the woods
beneath the sky of space
gently comforted by mounds of dirt
piled infinitely upon each other to hoist me up
just in between the breathable air and devouring space
I felt safe
in thought and sight, and taste
huddled inside that thin sheet of fabric that protected me more than any man’s embrace.
I felt safe in nothingness as I was blanketed by infinity
And tucked into the omnipotent earth.
Image Credit: Priya Kavina