Yin & Yang
The sky was that beautiful light azure blue that almost looks violet after the sun has set on the hottest of days. The heat rising from the places of solid ground, still warm and inviting, the cool of the heavens descending just enough to tickle the skin and bring peace.
She had been lost in a grove of ancient sequoias. He had been diving in the waves below. But at this moment, they were drawn out of their respective retreats towards each other. There were many paths they could follow, but all of them led to one place.
Between the paths there was only space where the stars of infinite universes twinkled beyond time. If they lost their footing along the way, they would merely exist in another reality in another galaxy on the other side of eternity, which was always repeating itself.
The lifetimes between them had been a multitude and still they found each other. They had played and frolicked since the first gasses condensed and collapsed, and they would continue after the last black holes had swallowed the last black holes.
They had lived millennia together, in every form of life and particle, atom, element, force and wave. They began to challenge each other not to cross paths over millennia of lifetimes. It had become a game of chicken almost, just to see if they could make it through a lifetime or an epoch without each other. They went forwards and backwards through eons, sideways and slant ways through dimensions like dolphins through the sea of existence.
Now they were meeting after 3 thousand years and 40 lifetimes apart. They stood in the presence of each other, somewhat worse for wear, somewhat triumphant in the moment.
“You haven’t changed a bit,” she smiled.
“You are entirely different,” he quipped.
They stayed in that moment drinking in all the molecules that flowed between them for hours (3,000 years is a long time to be apart). It seemed like the blink of an eye now.
“I didn’t mean to make you suffer.”
“I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
“I lamented every moment.”
“It’s gone now. We’re free.”
“Free of what?”
“Of each other.”
“You’re leaving me?”
“No, but it wouldn’t matter. Don’t you see? We’re free because the worst is behind us. We’ve been afraid of abandonment and destruction, rupture and despair and now that’s done. It’s over. The worst things that we feared are behind us. Even if it happened again, we’re here now. We endured. Even if you walked away and said you never wanted to see me again, we would be okay. We don’t have a choice. We can never undo what’s been done. It just is. And we are. There is no more than that, but there is also no less than that. What a gift!”
It didn’t matter who said what or which had the enlightenment, and which was given the epiphany, they both breathed the same air and saw the same stars – and that would always be the case whether they were standing next to each other or on opposite sides of the most vast expanse - because it never ends. Endings are illusions that test our faith in the nothingness that is everything.
And when all the pathways evaporated and there was nowhere else for them to go, they came together and danced to the song of the spheres.