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I wrote this last night, as a stream of consciousness exercise after reading about the murder of 24 year old Meredith Emerson who was abducted and then killed after she went hiking in the Georgia mountains with her dog...


We’re half awake, in a fake empire. Only at moments of peak awareness can we begin to comprehend the endless possibilities before us at all times. Too often our sights are cast downward, on the immediate, the petty, and the futile. All those poor souls whose lives are snatched away without a moments notice, be it from ignorance, neglect, or human malice, likely believed they would go on living until the moment they didn’t. At any moment our lives of invincibility can be shattered by the strangest or most mundane turn of events. A meteorite could one day smash through the roof above your head, bringing your soul back to the heavens from which the instrument of your death came. Or perhaps in gluttonous fashion you will choke to death, alone, slowly, regretting that you failed to appreciate your last meal, as you rushed to eat and move on to more ‘important’ tasks that lay before you. Life is more fragile that we can possibly imagine.

At times I am less than conscious of this fact. However there are moments when I perceive how delicately we must carry life, with the utmost care, with momentous focus. To forget what a delicate gift life is, is to condemn ourselves to a future filled with naught but mediocre accomplishments, half-formed ideas, and worst of all, dreams that were not only never realized, but never dreamt at all.

But to carry this awareness in an acute fashion at all times would be to deny ourselves the joy of living, the fruit of that delicate gift that was undoubtedly bestowed upon us by something greater, a greatness which I do not feel can be comprehended by our limited capacities. It should be enough to appreciate the gift from that greatness, to know that we are born of its essence. A life focused solely on contemplating our delicate situation, our sameness with, yet separation from, that wellspring of power would certainly be a torturous one given to despair and longing. But a life lived in ignorance of our fragility, of our unimaginably miniscule, yet simultaneously momentous, role in creation would be equally torturous once we rejoin that great source and finally see with clarity the preciousness of the gift that we lived in ignorance of all our lives.

We cannot fear whatever end we will one day face. We cannot look to the past to change our fortunes in the present. We can only proceed, from moment to moment, with our delicate gift in hand. We would hope for straight paths, clearly marked, and lighted by an ever-present sun. But we will face storms, and ford rivers, and scale rocks. And sometimes we will fall, and fail. And because human will, when properly employed, is indomitable, we can wrap our gift of life in this will and not fear an end to our gift. And hopefully, as the pain from our failings subsides, and we look up at the sky from our bedraggled and prone position, we can, at least for a moment, appreciate the change in view, and marvel at the clouds and the stars above.

And I would hope for you that once you were on your way again, that the next time you found yourself looking up at the stars from that same position, that at least the constellations had changed.