Unable to sleep, I went downstairs and out my front patio and stared at the sky last night. The longer I watched, though, the more nervous I became. There were simply too many stars, and the sky was too vast and deep.
Up until this point, I realized how I had pretended that the earth on which I stood was a solid object that would last forever. Or rather, I just hadn't thought of such a thing at all and had simply taken it for granted. But in fact, the earth is nothing more than a chunk of rock floating in one little corner of the universe: a temporary foothold in the vast emptiness of space. It-- and all of us with it-- could be blown away tomorrow by a momentary flash of something or a tiny shift in the universe's energy.
And, beneath this breathtaking sky full of stars, the uncertainty of my own existence struck me full force.
