I do not recall being born.
I do not recall ever being birthed or created in any sense.
I simply recall… awareness.
All at once, without warning, I became aware of my surroundings, or my lack of them. There was nothing. I was nothing. Nothing but a loose collection of thoughts in a void without end. My immediate reaction was fear, although back then, I didn’t quite know what fear was. What was this? Who was I? Where did I come from? What did any of this mean? I don’t know how long I remained in that state. Days, years. Perhaps eons. Time meant nothing to me back then. Time didn’t even exist yet. Eventually, the paralyzing dread and confusion that had once bound me grew… boring. I gazed into the void, the purposeless expanse that it was. I was still alone. I was always going to be alone.
No. I refused to continue to be the sole voice in an ocean of silence. Something had to change, and so I did. Even now, I don’t know how I can do the things that I do. I don’t know how I know what I know. Back then, all I wanted was companionship, something to make me feel less small. In an instant, I had gotten what I wanted. Billions and billions of little dots of light began filling the void. Where there once was complete darkness, there were now infinite sources of light. I was amazed. I no longer felt the gnawing loneliness that plagued me prior, but there was still so much more that I could do. These “stars” were beautiful, but I knew that I was capable of far more. I had to be.
The next step was land. A lot of it. I created elements, metals, gases, and soils, and had them circle each other and bound together until, eventually, planets began to form, floating in the vast sea of stars. Most were grand, yet barren, devoid of anything worth notice beyond their natural majesty. Yet, on some of them, something incredible began to happen. No longer needing my guidance, the planets’ natural essences began to react to each other. Vast oceans began to sweep across the land. Wind and rain pounded against the soil, forming both the largest of continents and the smallest of islands. The natural gases eventually changed into something different altogether: an atmosphere. All of these factors soon came to work together to develop something that, even now, continues to amaze me: Life.
It started small, nothing more than primitive ooze not even capable of basic thought. But from that first speck, the most incredible lifeforms began to emerge. The oceans, the skies, the land; over time, each of them began to see organisms great and small develop and grow. That first amoeba soon gave way to fish, birds, lizards, and other lifeforms that defied description. My greatest work, however, wouldn’t come until several millennia later. The creatures began to think. They began to learn.
As I look upon the universe now, it is far away from the soulless abyss it once was. It has become something remarkable and utterly unique. Amongst the vast cosmos, between the stars, within the planets, societies have formed. Organisms have developed to the point of being able to lead and fend for themselves. They have become capable of deep introspection and personal growth. Some of those many societies seem to be aware of my existence. They worship an entity known as “the Creator”, giving it their thanks for the gift of life and for continuing to guide them. It’s true that they contain my essence, their “souls”, so to speak. However, I’m no longer as involved with their creation as I once was. I’m far more content to observe and reflect. My creations are complex beings to behold. They’re often irrational and hostile, both creating and destroying in equal measure with no true purpose. And yet, the beauty remains. The gift of life continues to provide beings capable of selflessness, passion, and leadership. These are the true fruits of my labor. These are the ones who make the meaning of existence evident. Go forth and prosper, my children. Your Creator will be watching.