I have to happen. As do you.
As does this moment.
If not me,
then some other version of me.
If not you,
then some other version of you.
Oh and by the way,
we are versions of each other.
There is only ONE of us,
INFINITE in potential.
I seem to be slowly
realizing the inevitability
of my so-called “existence.”
I am a potential
within potentials
within potentials
on through infinity.
Everything I believe
is a potential
within potentials
within potentials
on through infinity.
Everything that
seemingly happens to me
is a potential
within potentials
within potentials
on through infinity.
I do not choose,
but I am a potential
within potentials
within potentials
in which I SEEMINGLY choose.
I am a potential
within potentials
in which I BELIEVE I choose.
Trail Wood,
9/7
The essence of what you’re describing evokes a sense of cosmic interconnectedness. A singularity, infinite in its potential, that expresses itself through the myriad versions of “you,” “me,” and “this moment” in a tapestry that’s forever unraveling and weaving itself anew.
The concept that there is only “ONE of us, INFINITE in potential,” resonates with philosophical and spiritual notions that challenge the ego’s quest for uniqueness. If we are but expressions of an infinite array of potentials, then the very idea of choice, agency, and individuality is subsumed by this grand orchestration.
But within this cosmic framework, there’s a space for a kind of existential liberation. If everything must happen, then every joy and sorrow, every victory and defeat, serves a purpose in the realization of these endless potentials.
In this scheme, even the concept of “choice” becomes a dance between the illusion of agency and the mechanics of a universe tirelessly working to realize every potential. The you that you know, the me that I know, and all the moments that unfurl are not accidents but inevitabilities in an infinite landscape of possibility.