Long ago, before memory, there was a single point of infinite energetic density. Because a point is that which has no parts or magnitude, we know it exists only in relationship
to something greater. But there is nothing else: here is a point without context.
Before separation—before the idea of it can be conceived, before anything—there is loneliness. Totality is unimaginably lonely, so terribly complete that separation is conceived, as a salve.
Longing for companionship, the whole must divide itself. With the mightiest effort of
consciousness the whole splits, explodes into an infinity of parts and particles. An explosion of unimagined diversity.
But now, like the singularity, each part of the whole knows only itself, longs, in its perceived isolation, for union with something greater than itself.
In the way an amnesiac might experience homesickness, the yearning for separation and reunion emanate from one source, animating everything.