“You won’t find faith or hope down a telescope. You won’t find heart and soul in the stars. You can break everything down to chemicals, but you can’t explain a love like ours.” -Science and Faith, The Script
Sometimes I wonder how my biology, my chemistry and my physics will ever be superior over my basic human knowledge, or at least be a healthy match to my common sense. These so-called branches of knowledge always keep me up at night trying to make sense out of things I could not even figure out. How could I live a life of accuracy and balance when I doubt the sincerity of symbiotic relationship, when I do not fully trust the strength of covalent bond, and when I cannot fully embrace the law of inertia?
I do not speak the language of science, but science speaks to me on a daily basis, making me think immensely of things that matter in a scale that my faith finds too deep to fathom at times. My science moves with me every single time, and no matter what complexity it brings and leaves me arid for answers, I could not last a day without its sweet torment of making me resort to thinking and question everything that transpires over the day, the month, the year, even the minutes and the seconds.
Symbiosis is a good thing, but sometimes I feel like it is just a lame excuse for some people to make up for the limitations that they are too naive to surpass. Reliance as a virtue becomes corrupted, when people take advantage rather than work hard and earn justly their spot in this planet.
Similarly, most people promise they have your back, only to realize in the end that they have your back to stab. You bleed for them anyway, because you believe that you still have to be human, until you bleed to death for betrayal that you have become a monster yourself.
If this is how tragic dependence or having someone to rely on turns out, why do I have to help keeping a balance?
I cherish mutualism anyway.
There is strength in unity, inspiration in reaction, and joy in interaction. These realities seem divine, like the power of an atom. Still, to keep a bond, you have to be necessarily strong. This is where I feel insecure about bonds, and I hope it is just normal to feel this way.
I guess no matter how hard you try, at some point, you will wear out and get consumed. If not you, others would. We do not have the monopoly of power in this world. When times like this come, it will almost feel impossible to hang on or even find a string to hang on so the bond won’t snap. Eventually bonds do break. No. Matter. How. Hard. You. Try. Well this is life: you lose some, you gain some, you share some. That is just how it is.
Knowing there will always be bonds is a nice deal after all.
I hope my high school physics memory serve me right that inertia has something to do with the fact that something not moving will never move, and something moving will continue to move, unless something else (a force maybe) affects it. How I wish life was that simple! Or is it really? As if we have a lot of choices in this life to wait for a force to get us moving or keep us moving. I hope I am not the only one believing that this life is unfair, because it is.
Who would not want to stay in bed all day? To not set the alarm for the next day? To not think about tomorrow? To not have plans? And yet make life happen? Physics does not work accurately in most lives I’ve known. You have to move and keep moving even if there seems to be zero motivation to get going because life will not stop for you. It is just how it is.
With or without a choice, with or without force, we all have to get moving. Being stuck is just an illusion. Keeping pace is a mere diversion. Being ahead on track is but a dream. This life is all about moving and that is all.
The good thing though is, there will always be somewhere, and that is beautiful enough to look forward to.
My science sustains me, no matter how messed up it can be. Just like faith, it reminds me that there is more to life, to existence. That is why thinking is good, even if thinking exhausts you, keeps you up all night, frightens you, saddens you, confuses you, challenges you, weakens you, kills you. If I were not to think, what will I ever do to the endless questions that my mind generates? It is not like I have the power to make the birth of questions stop. I barely have answers in this lifetime. Faith, however, assures me, that there are answers; some answers just take time. My science is probably a mess. Still I am grateful for I have faith.
I guess I will continue to get by in this life with a little reason and a little wonder.