This is another one of those days. I write about them all of
the time: I’m at the coffee shop, and I don’t have a clue what I’m going to
write about. It’s more common than not that my writer’s block is lifted by some
fleeting thought that grasps my attention, and I write on about that. I will
now attempt to have that thought.
I will now attempt to explain the Big Bang theory.
Approximately 13.7 billion years ago, at the presumed center
of the universe, something happened. All of the matter, light, and energy that
ever existed were sitting in the middle of nothing: a concept nearly impossible
to comprehend. Suddenly, it exploded and at the speed of light, expanded
rapidly. Roughly 100 million years in—a relatively short time in the history of
things—everything was a giant messy cloud of everything, and light was trapped
inside. For a yet unknown reason, the cloud dissipated, and photons were able
to escape and go beyond the reaches of the already expanding universe, allowing
it to inflate at an even faster rate.
Now, you might think of expansion in a different way. Like
how the city of Woodbury, MN used to be small, then buildings and housing were
constructed around it, making it larger overall. But this is a little
different. Think of a balloon. When you blow in it, it gets bigger. In a
vacuum, however, the space inside becomes larger, but things move at a
different speed. That’s a concept that I don’t think I explained very well.
How about this: the galaxies and stars that are around us,
moving quickly away, actually aren’t moving. The fabric of outer space itself
is stretching, making more space between things.
And then there were dinosaurs.
What is on the outside of the ever-expanding universe? Here
we are now with the concept of nothing. I want you to close your eyes,
especially if you are driving. Remember that video you saw on YouTube? Or
perhaps that experiment you performed in science class in middle-school? You
know the one: you fill a glass with rocks and are asked if it’s full. It’s not,
so you fill it with pebbles, then sand, then pee, or whatever liquid you might
have in handy. Ok, so now picture the opposite.
You take out all of the liquid, gravel, etc. But then you go
farther. You take out all of the matter, the air, every atom, and even the
light. And then you remove the darkness, and the time, and thought, because all
of those are things. This is what will inevitably be left of the human race,
our planet, our sun, solar system, our galaxy, and all other galaxies. It will
all be nothing someday.
Shit, open your eyes! Sorry. (How were you able to read all
of that with your eyes closed?) Where we
sit right now, was once nothing. Whether you believe this planet was created by
a God that looks like a man, or if you choose to believe in the big bang, at
some point there was nothing, and that can be a little tough to understand but
it is a fact.
It is theories like this that make me understand why I have
to be a good person. Someday I will die, and I only have this one shot at
making a memory of myself for those around me. My physical being may not be
around for an eternity, but I would like to be remembered for good things,
rather than bad: this is why I choose, every day, to not drink or do drugs. I
choose to impart on you my history of devious behavior, so that maybe you or a
loved one can avoid the same path, and I share equally with you my progress in
my new life to inspire you and show you that happiness is possible in recovery.
Tomorrow I start a new chapter in my life. I start my new
job, and I face all of the challenges that come with moving up in life. I am nervous. I am afraid that I won’t be able to keep up; that I won’t be as good
as everybody else. But I’m going in to face those challenges anyway, because I
know that I will be successful if I work hard, and show up. I am going to be
something, before it is all nothing.
