A Cosmic Doctrine
By Tessa Levenstein
We are all made of stardust. Every single one of us were once created in the deep pits, of the strange enigma, of the burning universe. Millions of light-years away, millions of years ago when the universe was still raw, and shiny, and new, the atoms that now make up our minds were forged in fire and light. And then they floated along throughout the universe with no air to support them, completely serene and calm, in places where not even sound could exist. They would have been tossed through nebulas and ignited in stars and made into planets. And by some beautiful twist of fate they turned into us. They have been here since the beginning of time itself and will be here long after we are all gone.
And all of us, every single one, are made out of stardust. The atoms that make up our mind have been there since the explosion that started it all and have seen more that we can possibly fathom. So then, I like to think, that we are stardust. And I like to think, I don’t know if it actually make sense, but like to think, that in some way we have seen all of that. We have seen all of the fire and ice and nuclear explosions. And when we will die, as all things do, the atoms of our body, in what for the universe will be blink of an eye, will continue.
And I myself don’t believe in an afterlife. But I like to imagine that we do go on. In some way we will continue to change into stars and galaxies. Our atoms won’t stay together, they will travel and leave each other. They will continue to see the incalculable wonders of the cosmos. But now the galaxies will be made of our memories, and thoughts, and emotions. And we will change, as the universe always does. But we will always be stardust. Until the end of time.