I Am Made of Star Stuff.

Screen Shot 2013-08-03 at 5.58.29 PMThe more I educate myself about science and mathematics, the more I am inspired, lifted up, reassured, boggled, and proud to be alive. This amazing tweet from the always incredible Dr. Tyson answered my one and final question about whether there is “magic” in the world.

If The Energies of the Universe and a god’s hand aren’t real things, then how do you explain when you’re thinking about someone and the phone rings? Or you run into a friend when you’ve lived someplace forever and never run into them before and it came at just the right time? Or you get that job offer right as your money runs out? Or you’re thinking of something and then it happens?

The answer: statistics. The sum of all possible extraordinary events is so high, that a day without extraordinary events in it would be extraordinary.

Over the last eleven months, I have slain mental dragons and thoughts that have haunted me for years. Through absorbing science, reason, and mathematics and constantly allowing them to shape my primitive mind into something slightly more sophisticated, I’ve been able to conquer personal demons. Through science, I was enabled to stop asking “Why me?” and start recognizing that a question like that is nothing more than a remnant of our under-evolved cave man mind which does not intuitively allow us to understand a universe without our existence at the center of it.

Over the last eleven months, I have learned this: I have endometriosis not because it was given to me by a god who “loves me,” or because I willed it into existence through “physical energy” and “bad thoughts.” My endometriosis is not a trial, nor a burden to carry, nor a lesson to learn, nor something that is handed down by a Sky Man to “make me stronger.” It’s biology. It’s statistics. It’s genetics. This might sound cold to some of you. I know. I used to be religious. And I wasn’t “doing it wrong.” I’ve lived with this illness both with the idea of a god in my head and now firmly in this world cast aside of magic. I am infinitely happier in the physical world. To step into it was a warm blanket of pure relief wrapped around my being. I do not say this lightly: I am deeply comforted by the knowledge that my endometriosis was not given to me, for any reason. It just exists. Period.

Over the last eleven months, I have learned that I don’t need to gnash my teeth and waste my time over the puzzles and syllogisms presented by religious philosophers. I no longer need to fight the – some call it a test of faith – cognitive dissonance that comes from being religious. The reality is that I have endometriosis. The reality is that science, and nothing else, one day may be able to save me. The reality is that in the mean time, I need to figure out what to do about it so I can fully live my one and precious life on this fragile ball of a planet far away from the center of the universe.

The more I educate myself about science and mathematics, the more I am inspired, lifted up, reassured, boggled, and proud to be alive. I am proud to be living in a time where scientists, by and large, aren’t being murdered for telling the truth. I am ecstatic to be living smack dab in the center of the biggest scientific revolution our species has ever experienced.

Carl Sagan taught me that I am made of star stuff.

I cannot ever be told something greater than that statement.

I am made of star stuff. I am made of star stuffI am made of star stuff.

And so are you.

Spread the word.

 

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4 Responses to I Am Made of Star Stuff.

  1. Chandelle says:

    Perfectly said. Comments like those re: Magical Sky Dude make me crazy!

  2. Casey Friday says:

    I love it when you talk about this shit. Love it.

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