Symphonic
A letter to a woman I loved, when she felt out of place in this world.
Symphonic
In the beginning, your heart began to beat. I know you didn’t ask for it, I know, I feel the same way - but we’re here now, part of this meaningful meaninglessness. This grow or die madness with nothing in between. I can’t change anything about change; on my own I’ve failed to see what good there is in existing, and why I have to be here.
I’ve been hungry all my life for answers - my appetite for philosophical knowledge is insatiable, and I’ve found some truths that comfort my unsolicited existence here. Things like identity, purpose, meaning, love, uncertainty and you.
As draining as it is to exist, it’s infinitely more exhausting without a purpose and meaning. Contrary to what people scream in your ears, what your soul needs isn’t some divine map or Jesuit manifestation, believe me, I’ve tried. What your soul needs is the feeling of a brick in a wall, a lego in a fortress, a drop in an ocean; things you get to choose.
I’ve learned so far that the spirit is a connection to an experience bigger than us, and that we come alive when we become aware of the connection. Jesus called it being born again, Maslow called it transcendence, Muhammad called it fitra. Dharmic, Tao, Ifa (in particular, who focuses on outcomes over identity), every guide points you toward this end goal of keeping the unwavering tempo.
In the beginning, your heart began to beat to the music of existence, for the dance of the universe. The Great Romance, Ted Dekker said. You’re born from a supernova; a gap in space and time designed by the Creator and given to you to fill.
Even if a talking snake couldn’t convince Eve and Adam to be selfish, your gap would still exist. This Creator cut out a piece of all the molecules in this universe for you to occupy in due time; only to remain in the margins and fibres of your pages, eating your ink; and not your teacher, marking the script.
All this cool story is to let you know that there’s no pressure on your shoulders to achieve what everyone else says you must. Finding your compass is not a singular aha! moment, but a gentle and progressive series of deliberate attempts at writing the story of the you you’re proud of. Every time you decide to be lazy, or stay comfortable, your ink ceases, and you’re the one that has to read the story and add it to the book of existence; with or without regret.
There’s a lot you’re capable of, and that fact paired with the innate hunger to find your place in this big, beautiful universe is a daunting task when the pressure comes from outside as well. I’ve never listened to anyone who tried to disturb my quest for myself, it was always at my pace, my restlessness was always mine.
One particular thing that has helped me is that restlessness. I haven’t ever been comfortable with staying the same. You’ve said that you tend to leave your attempts incomplete, and I wonder why.
If I were to guess, it’d be discomfort. I’d guess that you’re reluctant to the stresses of change, even when change is all we are and represent. I’d guess that you don’t see the need to change, yet you’re plagued by that very natural desire that comes with consciousness - finding relevance.
My darling, my woman, my love, I’ve found that our place in the universe is with others. We were made to be interdependent; where we are and what we know took centuries of experiences to become ours. What it has taught me is that if you want to find your place and your compass, simply look for a gap you can fill and empty yourself into it. It’s in doing that, you find more of who you are staring back at you.
We were made co-reliant and incomplete, otherwise we’d each be “God”, and gods of nothing indeed. When we look at our lives individually, we are dreadfully close to meaninglessness. When we look at our lives collectively, we become part of a meaningful existence.
Being interdependent, the pieces of exploded stars and galaxies are scattered inside you and me. We need each other, and yet we need our independence to be able to offer anything worthwhile. I once told you, that if we were afraid to be ourselves, we’d deprive the world of colour. We’re strongest together, Paul called it the body of Christ, we call it organisation, and humanity would never see today without it.
How you decide to fill the gaps you see is up to you. That’s the only way I know how to die empty. In the beginning, your heart began to beat. Play your music with all you have, the stage is ours only for now.
Hays. Production has begun for episode 3 of the underscore. Stay tuned.