Higgs boson and junk
Before peterbedtime last night I watched “My Name is Earl” and then an episode of “The West Wing.”
As I drifted off to sleepies, Earl had me thinking about karma and then fate. Those thoughts began merging with stuff from “The West Wing” episode, which was about a super collider. (You know, I also read a mess of Kipling poems last night. Apparently they didn’t really take.)
Suddenly I was seeing us all as particles being flung together at the speed of light. Some particles sticking together. Some repelling each other. Some writing pointless blog posts that clearly show why they were a physics major for only one semester.
And then I fell asleep.
I dreamed that I was fighting off criminals who were trying to break into my house during a snow storm. (I always kick ass in my dreams.)
When I woke up this morning, my first thoughts were about random chance. In life. In love.
How any choice, at any time, can lead to you meeting someone.
I don’t necessarily mean “the one.”
It could be a friend that inspires you to take a risk. It could be an enemy that teaches you something about your own weaknesses.
And you have no way of knowing that it’s coming.
I think that’s my favourite part.
You could go to the post office to send a parcel and meet the person that challenges you to create a work of art.
You could be in a restaurant and meet someone who recruits you to do the charitable work that, in large part, defines your life.
You could receive a friend request on Facebook from someone who ends up being a huge part of your life for decades.
Any day. At any time.
“I’ll wait for the next elevator.”
“I don’t feel like going out, but I’ll just go make an appearance at this party.”
When I wake up on rainy mornings, feeling more than a bit stabby, these are the kinds of things that I try to focus on.
The stories yet to be written.
I guess that I just like possibilities.
Hmm. Someone new just added me as a friend on Facebook.