The Universe of Me

Tonight I return to a universe that I call my own. It’s as deep and wide as the Cosmos goes. It has stars, nebulas, and black holes, even galaxies. But this universe is not out there. It’s hidden deep inside. It lives behind my eyes. It’s a universe much like the other only inside out. I close my eyes and feel my self fall back into the universe of me.

The atmosphere—yes there’s one here—is thicker, more like the woody, winter forest air than the empty vacuum of outer space. I breathe it in, and I feel it. I can float in it almost like air made of the smallest particles of water, or water made of a melody—heavenly sounds. What a lovely weightless feeling stretching out inside myself. Reaching in every direction and finding no walls to hold me back is unusual, if not outright exceptional.

I float in a cloud—a soul canvas—a luxury on which to paint with light. The background is blue-black like predawn—not black like badness, black because the canvas is my inside space. It awaits. I enjoy the unending patience that holds me here. No thought interrupts. No judgment calls to bear. My soul awaits with abounding space and patience for me. It waits with peace.

On its blue-black generosity, it holds the light I am. It holds the starlight that I make.

I sit near a nursery of stars formed by a smile, a word, a thought about the beauty of creation, a flower touched to my nose, a son’s hand given, a son’s hand taken. I watch small stars being born in the feelings discovered for new friends. I float by a nebula I once imagined and wondered at. Rainbows of nebulae light my insides from times shared with like minds in laughter or in desperation, pulling with our hearts tied together. Making me realize that tears of sadness and tears of joy are made of the same stuff—just like people and stars are.

A black hole holds court in a corner. It gained its place by actions taken in haste and to this day still not made right.

Shooting stars fly by to trace deeds of a generous spirit. A word was given that took my heart along with it. Another flies for feet that were lead by my values and a spirit to higher ground. Watching is the freeing feeling of the lightness of knowing that I might be running in the right direction, knowing because my body, heart, and soul all feel as one complete and decent human being.

It’s a wonder how a universe can fit inside a single person. It would seem my skin would hold it in, but it does not. I guess that is another miracle and mystery of creation. A universe inside me that’s as broad and deep as the one outside. It’s been there behind my eyes since I was born. One day my universe will leave my body and take its light to become part of the big universe in the sky.

That is how it should be. People are stars inside out.

—me strauss Letting me be