I was walking in from my garage this evening when the mystery and awe struck me.

It’s so easy to get sucked into these little things and they are all little.

Purpose, meaning, career, money, health, friends, family, hopes, and dreams. They’re all constructs that I pull myself into. When literally every moment is a wonder. How am I here? How does anything exist? How indescribably cool that I am experiencing this. This perspective. This literally universally unique set of experiences that I will never be able to fully share with anyone other than the rest of me. The completeness of how-ever-many-dimensional spacetime. I am this part. But even the existence of all of that on top of non-existence. The vast improbability of existence. And yet here we are.

How amazing that I have this moment to experience it with my senses, my mind, and in the context of these crazy constructs I so often fool myself into thinking are so important. I am my parents and theirs and all of the authors I’ve consumed and prehistory from which our current cultural genetics have grown. And the animals and plants before with minerals before and still required and in me. But it’s this. This living breathing body and it’s limited senses and limited ability to think, much less count. These eyes detect light from stars singing their light millions of years ago to get here so that I might enjoy this cool evening walk.

This moment is always here to be experienced and every time it is as fucking bat shit insanely and mind boggling unfathomable. That never goes away. And yet so often I find myself not “just soaking it in”. I find myself concerned instead of laughing or crying with joy. Instead, I find myself completely distracted by the little games, many of which aren’t really that interesting or fun. Games invented years or decades and in some cases millennia ago, that myself and others all thought were so important that we continue. When the real work of doing whatever the fuck we want falls to the side with every moment I deluded myself into mixing up my true priorities.

And so now I find myself just trying to connect and share my thoughts and opinions in this. I write these words, but with whom shall I share them?
And of those, who might feel the song inside? Who might feel the true message and form? And even once lots of us resonate, will the illusion of crystal we’ve surrounded ourselves with shatter? The answer is in the question. Does an illusion of a crystal need shattering?