So, here’s how most people see the situation. We’re all walking, talking, sometimes thinking bags of flesh and bone that somehow found our way into this spherical blue rock and we’re all alone. There’s no one else out there. At least, that’s what we’ve concluded so far because, after a tiny bit of space exploration that’s not even going to account for a bajillionth of the Milky Way much less the entire universe, no other so-called intelligent life forms have been found just yet. And so, we came to this shithole called Earth, we’ll stay here, and we’re all going to die here, not really knowing how we found ourselves here or what we actually came here for. Yes, sure, we all came from one-celled organisms that were born through the luckiest combination of chance events all suspiciously happening at the right time, but that doesn’t really matter because everything happened randomly and that’s that. That’s it. Kaput. End of story.
Or we could see the Earth situation for something else. That we’re not random, dispensable creatures attempting to find meaning in a godforsaken place. We’re more than that. We’re way more than that. Shamans, mystics, the religious, and even some of the world’s best scientists have been talking about this for millennia. They say it differently but they all mean the same thing. When I was in Catholic school, the nuns always said that we are children of God with a capital G. New Age thinkers say we are part of the Universe and the Universe is part of us. Carl Sagan said we are the cosmos trying to find a way to understand itself. Even Nadine Lustre said that we are star-stuff, that we came from a big explosion in the sky. Imagine that. All the dust lining the top of your cabinets and the hair that gathers for months underneath your bed. All of that came from the universe. You and everything else are by-products of the Big Bang and whatever sparked it in the first place.
Oh, and all the politicians you hate and the noisy neighbors you wish didn’t move in two months ago? The in-laws you would rather not spend Christmas with and the friends who are no longer friends because of some nasty remark everyone wishes nobody had said? The petty criminals on the street you think deserve to be in jail and the organized crime hooligans who’s got their fingers around, I don’t know, maybe the government? Every single friend and enemy you have. All the strangers on the street who walked by without so much as a single glance at you. All the angels in disguise and good Samaritans. All the puppet politicians who know nothing. All the politicians who know everything and try their damnedest to hide it from the masses. We all came from the same thing, and to the same thing we will return, when our souls decide to return.
Of course, all of this could be just another one of the many fancy ways we imagined to make up for the lack of explanation for our existence. Humans can’t help it, you know. We came here with not even a simple manual for living in this place called Earth. At some point, we had to start imagining things or we go crazy with the idea that, despite the fact that our brains can produce enough electricity to power a light bulb and that the heart generates an electromagnetic field that can actually affect whatever’s in the way, we’re here for nothing at all. And that’s fine because we’re all always imagining things anyway. People have imagined culture and the arts into existence, as well as all of the things that make life better and worse for everybody. Things such as space flight, heart transplants, renewable energy, agriculture and the economy, and that powerful tiny computer in your pocket—they all come from the imagination. So have wars and destruction and the mindless use of the resources the Earth freely shares with us. Everything comes from the imagination.
And the imagination is a vast, infinite resource that can create whatever we come up with. Even if you think you’re the most un-creative, un-imaginative bore in the world, you have access to your imagination. We all do. All you need to do is to think back to when you were young and remember all the games you played and the things and people you made up inside your head. Yeah, sure, the fairies and the cowboys you imagined didn’t show up and, eventually, you grew up and gave up on your fairies and cowboys. But the imagination remains, even after you leave your physical body and go back to where you come from. It will always be there, waiting, waiting, waiting for the moment you decide that it’s more than just for children’s games.