Here we are.
We're on a ball hurtling through space and spinning. Spinning at around 1000 miles an hour if you're an equator dwellor or essentially 0 miles an hour at the poles (I can get you a formula if you want to calculate your own areas rotational speed).
Steady now, don't stop reading.
I think I might be going somewhere with this but I didn't plot it out all the way through before I started typing. 0 mph at the poles or 1000 mph at the equator but hurtling nevertheless, hurtling in an orbit around a big fiery ball of mass or gas, or what have you, that we call the sun (el sol...cool.). About 18.5 miles per second we go in that orbit or...66,000 miles an hour. I'm not an astrology guy I had to look these numbers up. Correct me if I'm way off here but I gather that our little personal solar system is on the edge of a spiral arm of our galaxy. We're buzzing along, in orbit, around the center of "our" galaxy, the Milky Way, at like 155 miles per second. We'll complete that orbit in a mere 200 million years give or take a cuppy million. It goes on and on and on. Galaxies and groups of galaxies...
Still with me? Let me bring this back home.
We're born, if we're extremely fortunate, into the loving arms of our mothers. More fortunate still if there are more arms there that love. Fathers. More mothers. Excellent mothers. GRAND mothers you might say.
We grow. If healthy, we grow and grow and develop our own patterns of movement. Irregular orbits around those mothers and fathers in a little personalized version of the solar system. But they have their own orbital patterns that they must follow. We try and keep up but it's tiring, very tiring. Often we get scooped up and carried. Now we're like a moon. Not a dry and distant, cold looking moon. But a living breathing drooling stooling crying sleeping wailing hungry moon that needs nourishment. Nourishment of all imaginable sorts. So, we're nourished and we grow and grow some more and in a few short orbits around the fiery ball in the sky we're set free. Those arms that held us so tight and warm and rocked and spun us around our world give us the loving cosmic nudge into our own space. (Sidenote: Some cosmic nudges are more loving than others. Harder nudges can be referred to as the cosmic boot.)
Here we float. Adrift in a sea of possibilies. The infinite.
Some float here for many revolutions around the fiery ball.
Others prefer and seek more defined orbits.
I floated... And floated.
I found something to help me float. Water. I found water.
I floated on water for many fiery trips around the sun. I stayed with her as she froze and remained at her side as she melted again. Whether she was fierce and overpowering or gentle and placid. I stayed with her.
Eventually though... eventually, I slipped out of the water onto the ground.
It wasn't as dizzying as I'd remembered. I felt stronger in my orbit.
Just when my thoughts and feelings and rotation and orbit were at their strongest I found the most amazing and dizzying concept of all...Love.
Love that never leaves.
It held me with all of its' force and told me this was good. This was the place.
Love grew and grew and grew and spun rapidly into family. Family that supports and nourishes and spins around itself. We practice the nudges into orbit and relish the sweet and messy gravity of the moons. We forget and must remind ourselves that we're spinning through space. Together. Of all the moons and stars and galaxies across the universe. We are here. Together.