Unending

For the first time today, I considered the supernatural.

Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a person running through trees, three hundred feet in the sky.  It was a fleeting image, and only lasted until I rubbed the pesky lies out of my eye.  But it was not so quick to leave my mind.

I wondered what it would be like to fly, and was instantly filled with sadness.  Seeing the world from a bird’s eye view must create an air of total detachment.  To see a hospital, where babies are born and old men are reborn into a new world would significantly shorten the definition of “the meaning of life,” if not discredit it altogether.  It becomes, not the living or the dying that matters, just the existing.  And soon, pure, raw being takes precedence over the doing.  And then I started to wonder, what qualifies as existence?  Do we exist with God after death, or is He just another supernatural, quickly wiped out of vision.  Just a confusion.  Just a mistake.  Is He a myth created so long ago, but slow to leave our thoughts.  And why do humans insist on dwelling on a being so much bigger, so untouchable?  So I thought more about the supernatural, and I thought, I am glad I can’t fly.  I would much rather melt into the earth, where I will never cease to exist.