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Sun

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Where does the sun come from?

Does it wait for you with open arms at the edge of a new day?

Does it ferociously rise from the depths of the Earth burning and blinding?
 

Does it float around like a nurse sending warmth where it is needed? The sun is a star. It is like any other star we see in the sky, even classified as an “average star,” except for one difference. It is ours. It is the provider of life to our planet. There must be other planets out there with a sun. Those planets may even harbor life similar to ours. But it is not our sun. It is not our Sun.

 

I have heard people say, “I hate the sun!” How can you hate something that brings warmth and life? Without the Sun, we are nothing. We get sunburned and hot and curse the sun, praise the clouds that cover it. Without it, we are nothing. We have air conditioners to protect against its penetrating heat. But without It, we are nothing.


 

The Sun casts its light everywhere at once, except where it doesn't. Even the sun knows its limits. Shadows creep from underneath rocks, cars, buildings. They are the anti-sun, and the anti-life. Yet they can bring life as protection, for the Sun knows not of mercy or compassion. It simply burns, fuses, reacts and shoots its light-heat out into space.


 

Only a small percentage of the Sun's energy released by the nuclear fusion of hydrogen into helium reaches Earth. Where does the rest of this energy go? It goes out into space, but where? Energy does not simply dissipate, it spreads outward. It's like shining a flashlight into the night sky: the light travels farther and farther outward until it is so spread out you cannot see where it goes. But it must hit something.



Since the light travels in all directions, eventually it will hit an alien society. Their sunlight must also hit us. Although our sun is ours, and theirs is theirs, their sun is also ours and ours is also theirs.


 

Sunday. The holy day. Ra, Apollo, Surya - all these deities are revered as worthy of immense worship. The sun brings life, it is a psychedelic survival cosmic ball of living energy. Yet anything that touches the sun will die.


 

He who tries to grasp the Sun
Will surely burn his hand.


 

Even the sun cannot taste immortality, for it has not special lips to do so. It is a fleeting entity of our time-run dimension, another being. For although the Sun is not conscious, it is alive. For all we know, it is conscious in its own way, unaware of the presence of humans but somehow aware of some greater universal purpose, or lack thereof. It simply burns until it is done. Being as the candle flame, moving in harmony, not trying to stop itself from burning, just is.

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