Limitless, endless, unfinished, impossible to measure / (From Latin in = not; finitus = finished
What do you feel when you gaze up at a dark night sky full of stars? Do you feel small? Do you feel expansive? Undoubtedly there is probably some type of psychological reveal with either of these responses, but I don’t know it. Sorry. You’ll have to do your own research. However, given that August is the eighth month and 8 is also a sign for infinity, thinking about infinity makes me think of a star-filled sky. Staring at the stars has always given me a feeling of vastness, of on and on and on; and even though I feel calm, a feeling of incredible excitement. Bubbles in my belly get activated when I lose myself in the night sky.
I remember one night in particular, when I was 11, being in the back of my parents’ car, head tilted back, staring upside down out the back window at the star-filled sky scrolling up. Maybe it was the hypnotic motion of the vehicle or just the mesmerizing glints of silver light across the velvet blue/black of the sky, but I began whispering “Who am I?” along with my name, over and over to myself, and started to feel a sense of both separation from my body and oneness with the entire sky. As that feeling began to warmly spread everywhere, I could feel my mind, my voice, the repetition of my words, falling away. The sense I had of myself in my body was fading as I just felt completely connected and as if I were melting into the night sky. Repeating my earthly name now seemed strange and insignificant, as if that were not at all who I was. Instead, I – or who I thought was I – was now inside the sky. I was the sky. I was each star. I was both. I was neither. I was all of it. It was wonderful, thrilling, and suddenly unnerved me. Would I be able to come back if I continued to let myself float up and out of the car? Would there even be an answer to that question? I felt uneasy and, at that, in a snap, the moment was gone. Those floating feelings evaporated and I was very aware of my body in the car bumping along the road.
I have often returned to that moment. I can still feel it, and know now that it was an expansion of consciousness. Before I had the language to articulate my experience, I would often sort of laugh at my geeky younger self and say of this moment that it was when I began to “blow” my own mind. Obviously, at age 11, I was “not finished,” and so was able to have a very visceral experience of the infinite. I have come to feel that it was also me expanding my awareness to consciously remember origins of existence.
In this world, in these times, connecting to a power greater than ourselves has become vital. If we are here – living, breathing, creating – we, too, are not finished. We are infinite. That’s pretty exciting. So then the question arises how do we experience that infinite nature of ourselves? The answer is, undoubtedly, personal. Being present, being heart-centered, being in nature, all of these help. Meditation brings me to that state of being. Not every time, but my consistent practice helps to let the dross, confusion, etc. slide off so I can, again, feel the pull of oneness and alignment with Source. So I can, again, experience the infinite.