Dear Universe,

I never realized how violent you really are.

We forget that matter cannot be destroyed. Until I’m reminded by you.

Planets collide, stars eat other stars, or they supernova—only to explode and seed the universe, like dandelions for the next generation of stars.

You would think that we would be evidence enough, considering we also hold this space as matter.

Yet we still question this idea of reincarnation—pretending we don’t lose 21 grams of weight at our demise.

Difficult to believe that time is not our enemy, but according to you, neither is the darkness.

A quasar, the brightest point in the universe, is disguised as a black hole, the one place light cannot exist.

As I accept and acknowledge this human experience, I have no choice but to recognize myself in you.

There is a freedom in the space between stars, a cold peaceful clarity.

Suspended in the blissfulness of darkness with no excuse but to be bright.

So much power encased in something so small had to be divided into seven energy cycles (chakras), the human body couldn’t tolerate the capacity of that amount of energy otherwise.

An authentic vindication to bond with Mother Earth—our first opportunity to practice the ebb and flow, of giving and receiving.

The currency of vitality released by our thoughts and inhaled through our breath. A harmonious interaction between passenger and vessel.

Maybe the human body is the true culprit. We naturally slouch so the chest can cave in and protect the heart, and the brain shuts down when the body is in immense pain.

It doesn’t help that history has managed to breed the perfect host equipped with defense mechanisms, and an unlimited supply of judgments.

The savagery of our bloodlines, that blasts steroids to an already prideful ego. Inattentive in unnecessary battles, we forget to take responsibility for the energy we create.

I accept you as myself, making balance my only concern. As I follow your lead, I embrace the challenge of letting go and trusting the intended order of evolution.

Agree to disagree with the devil by embracing the God inside me.

It’s your lack of mental restrictions that provides such smooth transitions.

Nonetheless, there is a vigor in the knowledge of our choices. I believe, as humans, it is our forgotten free will that keeps bringing us back.

Like this circle we inhabit, round and round we go, for the endless chance of taking advantage of our true intention.

You are a constant reminder that I chose this human experience, and it also wasn’t the end for Alderaan after the Death Star.