Somehow my mug broke. I was almost upset, but then I got to thinking about it. I mean the matter that makes it up still exists. It’s all just matter. It still exists. It just doesn’t function or look the way I want it to anymore; that’s all. I think that’s probably true with most things in life. When things break they still exist they just don’t function or look the way we want them to. Maybe there’s some solace in that sentiment.
Isn’t it strange that we make such a big deal about the smallest issues when all we are is a infinitesimal speck among the cosmos. There is a whole universe out there, but we spend most of our lives living not even on earth, but inside our own heads. Every once and awhile we need to go outside on a cold December in a warm jacket, arms crossed, and look up at the stars and remember that there is an entire universe out there, outside of our heads.