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Secreted In A Star

April 4, 2020

38 of 47

We are now consumed with finding fault. Most everyone knows what we should do and do it, but some really (really) want to know who made us do this.

A president? A country? A man eating a bat? Or is it you – who are not wearing a mask? What, you didn’t wash your hands? Don’t you know, it’s all a conspiracy!

We can see 5,000 stars. There are 100,000,000,000 stars in our galaxy. There are, observable, 100,000,000,000 galaxies. The sky is not a projection screen, it is why humans so desperately want one.

We are all we have in the midst of overwhelming ignorance.

That ignorance is in our face when we get a cold. When our child hates us. When any expectation turns out not to be a fact.

We live by our sun. It is beyond a star, it is our star. It controls us, and we live by it. We kinda know what it is, and we sorta know those 5,000 other, smaller things we see, we get the reality of the 100,000,000,000 others that are part of all of this, and even the 100,000,000,000 things that also look like dots we can see, when we can see them.

But, really, we know so little.

But we know us. Each of us has an intimacy that comforts and scares and leaves us trying to find fault to deal with what we do not know. But we know some things. The anger, fear, focus is with us every day. Love is with us too – it is just unreasonable.

Unlike stars and galaxies that we see, love is what we cannot see, but live our lives to be. Fear protects us. Anger projects us. Focus gets us what we want (or tries to).

But love gets us nothing. Except love.

The reasons for this devotion beyond basking in the sun and the next meal are secreted from us beyond their undeniable reality. No one I know has died and returned. I see no ghosts, hear no voices, have no realities beyond the extreme truths of this moment, here, now, and the stars that I can see.

But the 100,000,000,000 things set in each of another 100,000,000,000 things are not known by me, but I know they are there. I know 2,000 years ago something happened. Hard and fast, a guy got killed by the same crap I have in me and know in everyone else.

But that did not end him.

I am not wearing a mask, or washed my hands, either, but I know him, like I know the 100,000,000,000 things each set into another 100,000,000,000 things. I can see 5.000, but that’s about it.

It may be enough.

But it is never enough to understand why what part of the bat the man ate is wrecking our set pieces today (if he did eat it). It happened in just one in one country that has made all the other countries deal with it. And made each and every one of us deal with it.

That is Lent for me, too. Every year. Some things are known, but infinitely more can’t be. I am not good with it, but that does not matter. Love abides.

We know some, but never enough. Emily Dickinson knew far, far less than I do, but so much more:

‘Who abdicated Ambush

And went the way of Dusk,

And now against his subtle Name

There stands an Asterisk

As confident of him as we —

Impregnable we are —

The whole of Immortality

Secreted in a Star”

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