We Are Not An Object


People really hate that shit.

“It’s either black or white, goddammit!”

If we break anything down into it’s components, we find that nothing is singular in its existence: Nothing exists on its own without a complex and vast network of connections.

We never are one thing. We are never an object.

Who am I? I am a process, I am not an object. I am travel, not a destination.

I am a breath taken in the morning mist, not a word written down in the hollow halls of the internet.

I have ideas and feelings now, and they will all change in the future.

Everything will change in the future.

I am neither here nor there. I am me and I am you.

How can we judge eachother based on the color of our skin or the way our facial features are arranged, or even the words that sometimes seep from our tongues?

Why do we say “This is what you are,” when it is just a photo of a moment that is already long gone?

Take a belief, turn it upside down — spin it around like a top.

Is any of that you?

Take a thought, play with it — is that you?

Take a feeling, let it go — is that all that you are, that feeling floating away right now?

You know — in one year that feeling will be like dandelion seed floating across the universe.

What we are is a process, in the moment, filled with life.

Perhaps we focus to hard on the details and forget about the overarching picture — we have this moment, and then this moment and then this moment to cherish, to worship, to adore.

That is all.

That is everything and that is nothing.

Pick it up and run with it.

Play with it.

Sing your praises to whatever you must, for the day will be over soon.



Writer — Nature | Science | Agriculture | Health www.andrewrfrench.com

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