A million stars

They stretch out forever. Each gaze met with a million more. I settled in the dark tonight. Lay back against the freezing deck, and looked long at the night sky. It is quiet and crystal clear. Distant sounds from the horses eating travel across the crystalline frozen lawn. I had time to just sit and watch. Nowhere to be, not a thing to do beyond breathe and watch the stars. Completely alone, save the horses on the hill. I cannot help but feel tiny under that vast array of planets, galaxies and stars. I am but a tiny blip in this universe. My life, with its suffering and trauma, so miniscule. In the scope of all that surrounds me, it is nothing. So, why then does it seem so great? so insurmountable? With all the possibility and wonder, why spend my life looking at all that is wrong with it? I have lost the wonder, as most of us have. When was the last time you looked at the night sky and thought of absolutely nothing? Just existed beneath its magnificent tableau. Not thinking about the day, or work, or life. Just relaxed in the moment. It is mesmerizing to just be. How is it so incredibly difficult? Take away the splendid night sky and replace it with the daily grind, it is impossible to just be. Every minute is another worry, or another task. What needs to get done. What hasn’t been done, or what should have been done. Existing becomes painful. There is nothing wonderous about it. I quipped with Virgil that my days make me feel a bit like Sisyphus. Endlessly repeating the same thing and never really getting anywhere. Obviously take away the devious cunning part of the myth, since I never tried to outwit Zeus. But the feeling of repeating the impossible. Will we be okay? will we lose the place? it is an endless back and forth. I’m exhausted of the not knowing. I realize we don’t always know where we are going, or what might happen. It does help if you have some sense of direction, rather than be lost adrift, and controlled. See there is control, just not my own. At the end of the day, it does seem a bit like some twisted Greek myth. You can’t make this shit up. I’d like this, my story, to end a bit differently. Least leave out the tragedy part. I could stay out there forever, just watching the night sky. Get lost somewhere in the dark gaps between the millions of shiny dots. Pretend there is a galaxy out there without suffering. Someday, maybe I can make that galaxy my own.


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