About 200 million years ago, something started to break apart. Its pieces drifted, in distinct stages, slower than the eye could see. Each piece eventually found solace in nothing.
Finding solace in nothing is the beginning of something. It is in nothing that we wonder. In nothing, silence is what we make it. Silence is choice and silence is action.
We choose. We act. We break and we move because we need the feeling of coming back together again. Maybe we are supercontinents…
About 180 million years ago, out of nothing came something blue. Eventually, we named it because it grew more powerful than we imagined. And eventually, from the shallow depths of this something blue, I gasped for air, knowing perhaps more than I have ever known. The sun was playing games with me, using the tall clouds as obstacles and agents of torture to destroy my sight lines. But I played along because I was the one ignoring gravity.
Late last night, a lightning bug collided with my windshield. But instead of spraying its blood and guts everywhere, it glowed softly in one place, like an errant ember comforted by the clean glass. Had I just driven past (or escaped) a raging fire?
The smell of a burning summer left me feeling nauseated. I wanted to write, but I had to drive. I wanted to listen to that same album over and over again, but I couldn’t bring myself to break the quiet. Silence is choice and silence is action.
I thanked geology for allowing us to slip past one another on fault lines. I thanked you for breaking and moving me.
Our pieces drifted, in distinct stages, slower than our eyes could see. They found solace in nothing.
Finding solace in nothing was the beginning of us. Now we choose and now we act. The rise and fall of everything will occur under our feet. This is our era of collision and drifting — our mountains, our oceans, our continents. Our fossils will be distributed across these continents as one line of shared existence.
The name of the supercontinent Pangaea comes from the Greek pangaia, meaning “all the Earth.”
Finally, this is what we have.
Originally published at nickmurosky.tumblr.com.