You are a star, and other inconsequential things about us

Post by Heather Rees for the Love for Love series.

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It’s your average day, in your average small-ish town in middle America. A young boy, just turned three, with a head full of red curls and a face full of freckles, holds his dad’s hand in the grocery store line.

Suddenly, the boy’s eyes grow wide, his grip tightens around his dad’s fingers. His gaze is locked onto something behind them.

“Daddy, what’s wrong with that man?”.

The Dad, concerned, whips around to see.

That moment: the arc of the ball, suspended, before it falls. The silence before the sound.

Somebody breathes in. Another averts her eyes. Others hunch their shoulders away but nod their ears closer, just to know.

Then, “There’s nothing wrong with me, son.

I’m just black.”

The man offers his arm for the boy to touch his blackness, to grasp the shared humanity behind the differences. The boy reaches out; his pale child fingers caress the dark skin. Eyes meet. Connection, understanding is made. And everything shifts.

The year was 1995.

In a galaxy near or far there’s a cloud of gas where particles live.

These particles exist in simple harmony, chillin’ where they are, with each other, in relative monotony. And they’d stay just like that forever more, day in and day out. Everything known. Everything just so.

Then, one day, something new blows into town – an unexpected and uncalled guest.

It whips through and shakes up the pokey particle town. Suddenly the once peaceful particles start bumping into each other.

They start to form alliances, clusters. These clusters, have more mass and therefore also have more gravity. With more gravity, more particles are attracted to it and the clusters grow.

This keeps happening, particles bumping around. Clusters forming. Some clusters spin out into the dark universe and stop their growth right there – never to become more. Other clusters keep growing, building off the heat. The gravity.

It’s a messy game and not always polite. It’s a lot of let me in and get away from me.

Then, one day, the cluster is so large and strong that the power pulling particles in is stronger than the force of particles leaving. Acceptance and stabilization win over resistance.

And just like that, a star is born.

There are no small moments.

All actions, indeed all of life, are both infinitely mundane and a fucking miracle.

In any given moment, in every moment, we are forming stars, conceiving babies, and finding the pot at the end of the rainbow.

Dust and gas. Sperm and egg. White and black.

You and me.

We are both the lazy particle, and the gas that blows through town.

We are both the unknown black man, and the wide eyed child.

We are beliefs, customs, and norms.

We don’t know precisely how each affects the other, or how it all fits together. We just know that it does.

We don’t really know what happened in that grocery store. The stardust that formed.

We don’t know that the black man felt seen for the first time, all rawness and heart. Or that the young boy’s father met failure in a new place and flung open unseen doors. And we don’t know that the young boy grows into a man, whose red head will stand tall and strong against injustices others don’t see in a world he still doesn’t understand.

All we know is that each rush of connection, each bump against the unknown, propels us into an orbit as completely insignificant, yet combustive, as the stuff that forms our universe.

We are, all of us, intelligent star stuff. We are, every day, in a million different moments going bump, align. Or, bump, resist. And each time, we’re choosing which star grows and which star fades.

So I ask you this:
What opens you up and pulls you in, so powerfully, that your cells cry out, “Yes! This star is worth shining for.”? What makes you weep in broad daylight for the very beauty of it?

Find that, align with it. Form that star. Or try.

Because we never really know how it all comes together, or how it all happens, we just know that it does. Just like babies, and stars, and pots at the end of the rainbow.

Heather Rees is a coach, writer, and creator of Soul Revival: a Return to the Senses. Heather believes deeply in the wisdom of aligning ourselves with the senses. It creates profound shifts and changes lives. As a leader and advocate for women’s success and empowerment, Heather leads workshops and retreats, and works with individuals through her coaching programs. You can read more about Heather on her website, or connect on Facebook and Twitter.

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