I sometimes think of the beginning of the universe as this intensely white explosion of all that is bursting out of an infinitesimally small, debatably existent point in an endless blackness. If God exists, it has to be everything. The thing that may be our eternal puppeteer must have all the strings, and it must have them forever. The only thing that could be greater than the immeasurable entirety of our ‘observable’ and ‘non-observable’ universe is its spirit, its soul. If God is forever, It is now, and It always was. But, if God is that timeless ‘first’ moment, then I feel compelled to ask, ‘How did that ultimate origination come to happen? That is, why?’
I recently stumbled upon a potential response. Life comes back. Life is the system that maintains its existence. A living system. That ‘beginning,’ should our mortal conscience ever come close to imagining such an event, is contained within itself. It is the supreme embodiment of the union of death and birth. It is the perpetual harmony between existence and nonexistence. It is life. And we are part of it. Every, single, one, of us. Forever.