In a universe infinitely stocked with galaxies numbering in the billions, each replete with scads of solar systems such as our own, to brag of earth’s singular prowess could hardly be more than howling at our moon; especially when such howling is readily drowned out by the rumbling of planets rolling along their orbital ruts around the raging din of a stationary sphere of eternal nuclear fusion (itself, a sibling to the momentary heat and havoc of nuclear fission).
Yet it’s within this infinite nomenclature of bare heat and routine that we find ourselves perched upon this crazy little planet that we officially call earth, and affectionately, our “little blue dot.”
At first glance, we might see our earth in terms of “the little engine that could”, but we would be wrong. Our earth, being a planet as any other, can only behave according to the laws of physics exactly like any of the billions and billions of planets have to in our universe; there is no special might involved.
What I’m beginning to realize more and more, is that what truly distinguishes earth from her siblings is something else than the bare physics ruling throughout this infinite expanse of galaxies, because what I’m seeing is this: as miniscule as our little blue dot is, more of reality shows itself here than anywhere else in our purview. This means that earth is something more than a planet–it’s a stage.
Why should reality need a special stage in order to reveal itself?
I don’t know, but where else do you see reality reveal itself as it does here?