Nothing Is

We call the "so-called" beginning a creation. Something must have lit the fire that is existence in itself. The candle that is the universe is an apparent flame that will never burn out or self extinguish. Something must have lit this candle, and that same something holds it presently, held it then, and will forever keep it in its grip. Most call this something, this creator of creation, this spark, God. This three lettered, English label, must have made everything, and everything else that continues to be made. This feeling of company must have been lonely. This complex watchmaker must have made the universe whose sole existence is a measure of time that only the most complex watch could ever attempt to calculate. This watch must have been turned on, but even we find it impossible to believe it will ever be turned off.

This God most pray to is infinite and now it's creation, the universe we try so hard to understand, will forever be as well.

But, if you think about creativity, wouldn't a painting simply be an extension of its creative and inspired painter?

Thinking this way, one would now assume that the universe is an extension of God. And, thinking scientifically, the universe, most definitely, had to of, created us. The universe created life. Thus, we are an extension of the universe.

However, we know our fate. And that is one in which we all have had a beginning and we all will have an end.

We are finite.

Some, well probably most, imagine an afterlife that shares a commonality with our most perfect creator. This afterlife we cannot choose, is infinite like the God that decides what and where this afterlife will be. Such a thought seems perfect, doesn't it?

I find this hard to believe as an infinite existence cannot have a beginning, similar to the shared lives, we know, most certainly do. Something, found, to not have a beginning, can only carry this truth if it can be proven that the past is nothing.

I'll let you think about that for a second. Re-read the last sentence if you think or feel it no longer exists. But it does, and you most certainly know this to be true, as you continue to read further, whether the words you read rest in the last sentence, this one, or the next one in which you've yet to see.

Thus, the past, is, something.

If we are an extension of the universe, like a wing to a bird, we evolve from the universe, like a wing to a dinosaur. Physically we never disappear, and this, can be seen, in the world, that we live.

We, simply, change.

We change, into something else, into something different, into something more, or maybe even, something less.

We try to make sense of existence by placing it in a capsulation that closes our minds to a common law of understanding it, and gives it a definite characteristic. Existence has a beginning and also an end. We say this because our lives begin and end. While we are here, to most, it just makes the most sense that everything else that is, once was, and eventually will be, does, did, and will, begin and end as well. Everything was once a cold, unlit candle, that now burns a flaming heat that lights the way. This light that is felt we pray will stay. This light, continuously created, is beautiful, but we see that the light always burns out and the dark always comes back. This impending fate is the route cause of all faith, a faith that is shared amongst many, while fought over simultaneously.

But, there has to be something, something so perfect, that has, and will, only continue to be forever constant.

What could it be, besides a creator called God that is somehow more infinite than the painting of a painter that painted us, and the beautiful afterlives we paint for ourselves?

It, is, change.

When an extension takes place, change is the result.

If God created the universe, which then created us, this lateral flow, which is the essence of existence, is a change that is constant. One could now think to call God something else.