On a clear, dark night, I look up at the sky and see billions of stars shining brightly. Some of these stars, no longer exist. They have burnt out, but their beauty travels on.
Each star is a sun. Orbiting each sun are planets. If there are billions of stars in the sky, how many planets exists in our expanding universe?
I call Earth my home. Earth is like a grain of sand on a beach when compared to the rest of the universe. If our Earth disappeared today, would the rest of the universe care?
As I stare into the sky, I realize just how small I am. I am one of 7 billion people who live on Earth, whose relevance in the universe is miniscule. I am not that important.
Neither are you.
I don’t get sad about this truth. I don’t get angry when I question my own existence. I don’t go on suicidal rampages because of my lowered significance.
I feel relieved. Free. Peaceful.
Without grounding myself in this truth, my ego rages. In my small world, I am a giant. I am needed. I have many things to do. I have places to go, places to see. I have people to meet, people to please.
I rush from task to task, meeting to meeting, event to event. I eat lunch while working at my desk. I type emails while chatting to a friend. I get mad when sitting in a traffic jam. I brag about how busy I am. I work hard to keep up with Social Media. I say yes to more work because I can’t say no. I dream about my stresses. I make excuses for skipping the gym. I like articles I haven’t fully read.
I am a human in the 21st century.
My life is always on. It never seems to stop. Too many people depend on me. Too much money is on the line. Too many tasks depend on me to move forward. The world will crash if I am not around. The Earth will stop spinning. The sun will dim. The universe will shrink. Everything depends on me…
Nothing depends on me.
Just stare into the night sky.
You and I… we are not that important.