Did you know that 99.9% of dust particles on earth come from stars? That’s right – bacteria from a star is propelled into space, freeze dried when it hits the cool temperature, and then brought by gravity to earth. So, the next time somebody tells you that your house is dusty, just say, “Didn’t you know? My house is filled with stardust.”
This universe is incredible. Did you also know that in hermetically sealed radiation reactors they have found bacteria that has formed? That bacteria is taking radiation and converting it into something that is less dangerous to humans.
The world is desperately trying to take care of us, and that is our backstory.
I know this story, and yet I undercut myself by writing ridiculous chapters of fear . . .
My husband and I are dealing with some health issues this year, and at times the stories I create in my mind are just terrifying. How can we handle this? I can’t deal with it if we don’t have each other forever. What if we lose our house?
Then I realize that today, my husband and are handling it just fine. We have each other. And we still have a roof over our head. The question is, why tell the story?
I’m learning to let the thoughts go on by, because my brain will keep producing them. That’s the job of the left brain – to warn us about things that might, possibly, potentially, could hurt us. I just don’t accept those thoughts any more unless real danger is present. I repeat to myself, “For today, I’m okay.”
Note: If I were standing at Yosemite with a mama bear on her legs defending her cubs, I would listen to my fear. I’d listen real good.
Today I focus on what I can with a greater intensity . . .
I’m attempting to pay more attention to people when I’m out in public. I have to be careful with this so they don’t see me staring and alert the authorities. There are just so many small ways to assist others. If somebody drops something, and I’m in the vicinity, I will pick it up for them. This approach backfired when a woman dropped her pen in Cracker Barrel and we bent down at the same time and clunked heads. But, hey, I’m trying.
Yesterday, friends of our family came over for breakfast. I hadn’t seen Margaret in years, and yet we connected immediately. All of us told stories and laughed and hugged. Fear wasn’t invited, because in the face of love, fear dissipates.
Later in the day, we spent time with our family and I realized that sometimes the greatest gift we can give others is to just be with them, without looking at our phones or thinking about other things we need to do.
Warmth is found in the giving, and confirmed in the receiving. Like stardust, we gravitate toward love, because that’s what we are. And if we stay attuned enough, we will go where we are most needed. . . the place where we can be present and make the situation a little less frightening for somebody else.
Because we are made of stardust, too. And that, my friends, is our story.