Moving with the World, Jan. 17

Dear Diary,

A short and sweet entry tonight.

The world moves around us, moves us around, and sometimes, we even move it around.

But to say that, does it mean that I am seeing myself outside of the world?

What does "the world" even mean?

I am really not sure at this point. Maybe the key is that there is not just one world but billions of worlds.

A multiverse of imagination.

Think of it, Diary, billions upon billions stacked on another billion of narratives projected onto the same material world.

As we open our eyes each day, we are bombarded with chaos, fear, pain, and the love of a world in motion.

From these feels, we manifest narratives and truths to live by. Sometimes they are complementary, sometimes unrelatable.

Sometimes these narratives totally contrast, leading to contestation, conflict, violence, and more pain making "the world's" motion ever rougher.

I get it, Dairy. I don’t have to like it, but I get it.

The way we know "the world" is personal and intimate. Letting go of our individual narratives tethering us to the ground is a hard ask.

But the cosmic joke?

The tethers are just as imaginary as the rest of the narrative. They are holding us back from something different if we have the courage to cut them away.

We–meaning being of the human sort, the non-human sort, and the more-than-human sort–can see the world with such complexity. I think animals, organisms, landscapes, and the sphere we call the earth totally have ways of interpreting the world beyond the mechanistic explanation of biology, biochemical, and instinctual forces. Their narratives and voices are sometimes different from the preferred human method of communication. Sometimes they are not, but we just don’t take the time to notice.

It's a lot.

But it is love.

It is magic.

And, Diary, that is pretty cool.

More to come, promise