This morning, my alarm rang at 6 instead of 7. Instead of kindly going back to sleep, my brain did what it does best: race through what feels like a thousand thoughts a minute.
I thought about work, bills, and Pokémon cards. I thought about TV shows, my wedding, and memories from long ago. And then, just beyond the anxiety of not being able to sleep again, I somehow found myself marveling at just how many thoughts my mind can contain. Its capacity seems near-infinite.
Sure, I can’t access everything all the time, but it does seem like any single idea can come back at the right time. That’s a rather amazing dynamic—but perhaps it’s perfectly natural. As I was wondering whether my memory and subconscious truly hold infinite space, I realized: Actually, I am made from infinite space. We all are. Rearranged stardust. Woven from the infinite fabric of the universe.
We can argue about the exact path the universe took to shape us, sure. Scientifically speaking, we have a decent idea, although there’s still much more we don’t know than we do. And yet, collectively, our knowledge also keeps expanding.
“Like and like enjoys each other’s company,” we say in German. If the universe merely wanted more buddies to play with, why not hand them the same infinite powers? It’s more fun that way.
Your hard drive will never fill. Trust in the cataloging system, and don’t let the speed of processing carry you away. It’s all part of the game, and you’re one cosmonaut of a player.
