All this space...
The universe, our minds and the childhood bedroom
Everything is bigger than us. We are merely a grain of sand, an atom in the universe that’s grasping us whole, eating us alive and forgetting us the second we disappear. Comforting, isn’t it?
Nothing matters. Nothing matters.
First weeks of our existence round up to screaming, crying, eating and sleeping. Our universe is ending where the ceiling of the nursery is. It is small, limited and safe. Nothing gets past that ceiling, in between us and our nap time.
The world is so small then and so are we.
It expands slowly, it opens up with the same speed we are capable to grasp it. As we get up on our feet, it speeds up a little. Still mercifully waiting for us so that we don’t fall behind. As we uncover new spaces, new smells, views, sounds - it lets us to feel it wholly. Hundreds of stimuli, but it’s alright for the little mind of ours. We wanted it that way.
What changed? Did the universe stop giving a shit whether we catch up or do we not want to see that much now?
The world expands. A childhood bedroom. Vibrant posters, smiling plushies and LEGO bricks everywhere. Everywhere. A space to let everything we learned and observed to grow. To evolve and use all that knowledge as we wish. For crayons to make first pieces of art, to write first letters, to imagine whole empires.
The world showed us enough to be able to imagine everything. To make a perfect fantasy or to combat monsters under our bed. To see horses galloping in the clouds. How much was there in the world. And how little…
The biggest fear was snakes, ghosts, spiders. Or that one TV character. The biggest challenge of the day? To pick with which toys to play, God forbid one of them feels left out. Crying? Only when we bruise our knee whilst running around.
The sorrows, the regrets - so manageable and adorable. The universe was so small yet so big. It expanded in our minds, one day after another. Until we couldn’t keep track.
We get into double digit ages now. The tiny nightmare of being a teenager is coming. The hardest obstacle yet, to grow up. But wait… The universe gives zero shits now whether you can do it or not! The bubble is bursted. You have unlocked the resources (and the pressure) to know (supposedly) everything, you see now clearly and hear things you don’t want to. Good luck!
All this space and nothing to do with it. Because now the world has moved into our minds.
Plans get made, dreams start to form. Feelings start to riot and the body feels like a cage. Friends get annoying and personality suddenly molds us into somebody else. Fights get picked, arguments heat up the room. The internet has fangs and books get grey. No more illustrations, now you see it all in 4k, as it is - not as you wish it was.
It gets a little tight and uncomfortable in the head. Our imagination shifts - from fairytales to predicting the future. To all the what ifs. Apparently, we didn't grow to be the warriors we imagined ourselves being at five years old. We’re the monster that’s being slayed by them. A creature that must be tamed and locked in a cage. A teenager. Ugh.
The mind and the body are the only things that matter. The universe has expanded but the world has shrunk.
As the years pass, we just agree to live with it all. With all the things the world just “planned” for us. There is all this space, but we move inside the squares like chess pieces. Not lurking outside, not trying to fall out of the row. It all seems to be right, all the decisions seem to be ours. Even if we didn't want things that way, they just are. It was all meant to be like this. Right?
The universe doesn’t give a shit and at the same time keeps an eye on us. It’s just like when we say we don’t care about something, but we just won’t admit to our feelings. “I don’t care”. Right…
We’re made from the same elements as stars, so why the universe would care about us less than these gorgeous shiny objects? We also shine, in our own way. Just as stars, we born and die. A star has its purpose. So do we, we just have to sometimes look more carefully for it. We need a sign sometimes, sorry that we’re more clumsy and clueless than all your other children, Space!!
You need to give us a sign, dammit. We don’t have a drivers’ license for navigating life. It gets messy in this little cage.
Even though it seems like everything has opened up and the universe and space are unlimited, we are still merely a piece of dust.
Every day the world reminds us in some way that in reality we don’t know shit. That maybe we feel like it all stands wide open, but it is still a golden cage. That maybe our minds serve us horrors and the outside world is cruel to us, but it is still not everything there is. It is comforting and devastating at the same time.
The unbearable burden of existing in all this what seems to be hell on Earth sometimes, but that it’s still not everything. That at any given moment, through the bars of the cage, we can get hit with something new, something bigger than us, ready to swallow us whole.
All this space… too much and not enough.
Suffocating in the open air. Feeling overwhelmed in a room full of people. In a room full of tiny grains of sand in the hand of space. Us, humans, we seem to know sooo much. Truth is, we didn't even touch the universe.
The world, the universe exists in our minds, but it’s merely a drop in the ocean. So, why does it make us feel like we’re drowning?
Aren’t we capable of letting more of it in? Maybe this golden cage is pretty? If the universe gives no shit, then why I feel like it cares a little bit?
Why do I believe in signs from above if, apparently, nothing matters? Because you need to feel like not everything depends on you.
All this space and I am cramped up in the corner, thinking about it all. I liked my universe more when it was my childhood bedroom. I was a warrior back then.
-Z
