The light we see from stars at night is from light years ago. Those stars could all be dead by now, new ones taking their place, and we will never live to know. The universe as we see it is not the one that currently exists. There are stars in our sky that have seen the dinosaurs, civilizations rise and fall, and the Earth turn countless times, yet we pretend that we are important. I find comfort in the fact that we are not.
I do not matter. My mistakes do not matter. My faults do not matter. And is that magnificent? Beautiful, in way. Humbling, too, but there is peace in knowing that in the short time I’ll exist, a blip on the universe’s calendar, that I have lived. Lived through more than some and less than others. Lived to see both beauty and terror. Lived to see hate, love, tears, and laughter. Lived to see the dew on the morning grass and the sunset reflecting off of windows in the evening. Lived to see friends come and go. Lived to see myself blossom, grow, thrive, and die just to come back stronger for the next season.
In this little corner of the universe, in a small pocket of the Milky Way, on this beautiful planet, I have lived whether it matters or not. For that, I am proud. Proud to say I survived and am continuing to survive, just like you. How lucky we are to exist in this insignificant moment together, to witness each other’s strength and growth. So maybe we don’t matter, but that most certainly does. And in the moments where we feel the most defeated, the most alone, and the most unworthy, we must pretend we are planets in the dark. Know that somewhere out there in the universe a star is taking shape, and its light will one day make its way to us and illuminate our skies.
Image Sourced From The Metrolopolitan Museum of Art
Not an Artist 