Fishing Lessons

Imagine, if you will, that you sat down in some infinite realm and took hold of a magical pen—a pen that could not only write words on a page but could shape experiences, events, moments of laughter and moments of sorrow. With this pen, you carefully wrote the story of your life, choosing the twists and turns, the highs and the lows, the lessons and the triumphs. And then, with a flick of cosmic intention, you released this book into the universe. It became a movie, each scene unfolding perfectly, effortlessly, as if it were meant to be. But then, something curious happened: your memory of crafting this story was wiped. Suddenly, the awareness that you had orchestrated it vanished. All that was left was you, stepping onto the stage of existence, ready to experience the film with no recollection of the author’s hand behind it. Being born, you see, was like pressing “play” on this intricate, divine script. The story was set, the movie rolling. And thus, here you are, seemingly without co...

What, indeed, is a crumb? We might think of it as merely a tiny piece of something larger, but let's explore this further. How small must a fragment become before we deem it a crumb? And if we take a crumb and split it, do we then possess two crumbs, or does it cease to be a crumb altogether? How many times can we divide a crumb before it is no longer recognizable as such? Now, consider the act of reassembling these crumbs. Can one, through some cosmic alchemy, piece them back together into their original form, or have they become something entirely new, something that transcends their origin? And if we look deeper, aren't we ourselves but a collection of cosmic crumbs—galactic dust gathered from the vast expanses of the universe? Stardust crumbs, each of us. Our very existence woven from the fragments of stars long extinguished, the detritus of the cosmos brought together to form this intricate dance of life. In this way, the humble crumb mirrors the nature of existence itself...