More than 85% of the matter in the universe is made up of dark matter. It’s a mysterious energy that we cannot see or touch, yet it is the force that holds the entire universe together. We cannot define it, but its presence is everywhere and controls everything in an unknown and indirect way. Maybe life is like that, which I cannot understand, but some things can only be felt and never be grasped.
How foolish I am to think that I can cover the ocean in a tear or capture the last ray of the setting sun in my palms. I wasted my life trying to understand things that can never be defined, like the wind blowing through the trees or hearing the sound of silence in the deepest corner of my heart.
People say that the whole universe with all its vastness is just like a mirror looking back at itself, perhaps we too are mirrors always reflecting what we want to see, and I, in my naivety, keep trying to understand others. But isn’t it strange that the more we try to understand this word, the more confused it seems?
Maybe I was just chasing shadows—in the illusion that if I stretched out far, I would touch the source of that light. But the further I went, the more I realized that, however far it is, I will never be able to touch that light.
This endless desire to know, understand, and control everything to try to change what already is perhaps our greatest mistake. The more I run around in search of clarity, the more blurred the world becomes. I tried to understand love, time, and pain as if they were puzzles, but perhaps the beauty lies in the fact that they are never really understood, they are meant to remain mysterious, they are made to be felt.
Maybe I am a fool, not for not finding the answers but for not embracing the questions. Thinking that once I find the answers, the pain will end, but the pain starts to confuse me more when I try to find an answer.
Isn’t it paradoxical that the closer you look, the less you understand? like this star- distant, shining, guiding sailors and dreamers. But the stars we see today are already dead, their light is just an echo of that past.
How many moments have we wasted holding on to the things that perhaps never existed? in the fear of the unknown that calls us towards it? I wonder in this search, did I keep getting away from the things that really matter?
After all, it’s not the fireflies that make the night beautiful, it’s the darkness that allows them to shine.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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