Nothing begins because nothing ends. Before we were, our parents were. Before our people were, there was an older people. Before humans were, there were other species. Before life was, the earth was. Before the Earth was, the sun was. And so it goes back. But it never reaches silence, and it never reaches a beginning.
Because, before this universe, this song of one existed, there was something else and something more. We cannot see or hear beyond the boundaries of this song- but we know that there is more. We know that there are other songs. Before and beyond the bounds of the one song there is all songs.
But we do not know what that is. And so we can say all this simply.
In the beginning there was Mystery, because nothing really begins and nothing every really ends.
This does not explain things, but it allows us to sing our song, our one song. And this is all we can do. We are bounded by the notes and verses of our song, we sing the lyrics and make it real. We are all so very tiny against the vastness of our one song, that even contemplating it is too much for us, but every one of us sings that song and every one of us is part of the performance. Some parts are larger, but all parts are so very very small- and yet, despite all this, every part is required. Every portion essential to the whole.
And so we sing.
In the beginning there was Mystery, because nothing really begins and nothing every really ends.
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