This past weekend, I went up to Ocean Park, Maine, and spent some time scouring the rock beaches for interesting pebbles. At one point, I just looked out at the ocean, and my world slowed a bit. I watched the waves ceaselessly coming in and going out. Foamy fingers dug into the sand, kissing the grains in a promise of return, before being pulled away again. The blue stretched on and on until my eyes met the horizon.
We are so small. I am to that ocean as one star is to the universe. Yet, in that smallness, my thoughts are infinite. Staring out at that ocean, I could feel my thoughts stretch and reach into the distance. They grew and expanded, and I knew there was no limit to them. Oblivion was right at that horizon. It was close but, to my thoughts, couldn’t be farther away. Some people say that, due to our smallness, we are irrelevant. We are weak and helpless and inconsequential. But it is our smallness that makes us conceive the impossible. It took an ocean and a pebble for me to realize that.
If anyone reads this and finds it worth commenting on, I’d like to hear from you. What is your perspective of facing oblivion? How does your smallness make you who you are?