Long line of "Causation" Rolling out Like a Great Oriental Carpet!

The cosmic tumblers clicked into place. And that long line of "causation" just rolled out like a big old oriental carpet; it rolled out (I'm leaving a few things out) from the Big Bang, to the Dinosaurs, to monkeys descending from the trees, to The French Revolution, to Hiroshima and Nagasaki, to Nixon, to Vietnam, to the Internet, to a conversation about causality in the little park next to Lake Michigan.

My good friend, the one I affectionately call the Desiccated Old Blackbird and I, were speaking of the secret patterns of the universe. And we both agreed that everything had to happen just as it did to put us in that little park in that particular moment on that particular afternoon. Every flap of a butterfly's wings, every swish of a willow tree, every exploding star, every swirling galaxy, had brought us to that particular, singular moment.

You have to shake your head in silent wonder. You have to marvel at the long dizzying chain of existence. Our conversation unfolded, and we realized we were both reading the same book (Patti Smith's "Just Kids") at the same time, and were almost exactly in the same place in the same book at the same time. Weird. Strange. Cool. Amazing. Baffling.

We talked about parallel universes too. And it just seemed like the planet started spinning just a little faster. Spinning just like my little head was spinning. We parted ways. Changed. And then that chain of causation just kept clicking along.

There is a tempo, a reason, a plan, a destiny, a reality.  We just have to hold on and experience, embody and watch the great unfolding. And we play too. We unfold too.