“I felt freed to please myself, to find my way as I would, in a world that was much vaster than I had realized before, in which I was but one star-gleam, one wavelet, among multitudes. My happiness mattered not a whit more than the next person’s-or the next fish’s, or the next grass blade’s!-and not a whit less. How piddling I was, in the general immensity! And how lovely it was to be tiny and alone, to have quickened to living for a moment here, to be destined soon to blink out and let time wash away all mark and remembrance of me.”
~Margo Lanagan, The Brides of Rollrock Island
Perhaps it’s because I just got back from a trip to the Sequoia National Forest, where I contemplated trees that were three thousand years old and measured 95 feet in diameter, but this really hit a note with me. It’s something I try to remind myself when I get into one of my more self-absorbed glooms. Perhaps this is a thought that depresses some, but I find our insignificance in the grand scheme of the greater universe oddly comforting.