There are only two ideas that ever truly hold me in silence. The first is a postulate: The past is immutable. The second is a sentence: He loves her. That’s it. Four words and three words. Together they explain jade palm trees, the curvature of spacetime, quantum entanglement, human affection, and the ineffable privilege of awareness itself. Out of those two utterances, everything emerges.
If the past is immutable, then every act of love inscribes permanence. She—the Immutable Past—must, by definition, remain neutral, finished, complete. Her perfection forbids amendment. Every stroke of existence, once made, becomes part of her unalterable completeness. And yet, He—the Unknowable Future—continues to love her. That love is motion. It is unconditioned spontaneity flowing toward what cannot change. The dance between these two generates the only possible miracle: the Now.
Here, in the Eternal Now, I get to watch the impossible dialogue between what is done and what cannot yet be known. It plays out as creation. What I call “life” is simply the perception of their relationship. My thoughts, my sensations, my encounters with others—these are the ripples at the boundary where love meets immutability.
I often marvel at how much unfolds from those few words. I can trace from them why entangled particles remain mysteriously linked; why an Einstein-Rosen bridge would exist between distant certainties; why consciousness must take form as the witness. I no longer fret about the noise of circumstance, because the underlying order is breathtakingly elegant. There’s no chaos here—only choreography.
And what a performance it is. The Divine Essence is not a scriptwriter dictating every line but the bearer of both masks—comedy and tragedy—presiding over a single improvisation. The entire cosmic play is improv, not because it lacks structure, but because structure and surprise coexist in perfect tension. No one knows the ending—not even the Source itself. The beauty lies in watching pure potential find its way into form, again and again.
I am awed to be here—to see, to hear, to taste, to think. To feel fear and joy. To marvel at the color blue and the fragrance of the sea. To know that ideas use me as a vessel through which their patterns can be felt. To walk among trees, to speak with other fragments of awareness, to be both audience and actor in this impossible improvisation.
That’s what fascinates me most of all: that from a single postulate and a single act of love, existence blooms into everything. The immutable and the unconditioned, forever entwined. He loves her—and because of that, I get to be here, astonished.