It occurs to me this morning, after having a horrible day yesterday, that whatever happens to me, whatever events I go through, whatever fire I pass through, has absolutely zero impact on the world around me.
I don’t mean that in an “It’s a Wonderful Life” sort of way. I mean it in a recognition of what minimal impact I have on anyone. I suppose an argument could be made for The Butterfly Effect, and how I can’t see all the ramifications I have on the universe in general, but for the most part, I’d be hard pressed to see that now. I sit here and ponder the events of the last 24 hours and I wonder what the hell happened, and what will happen.
And it dawned on me: nothing. Nothing will happen. Nothing of significance has happened. Everything is as it was before, and will continue as it will continue.
Nothing of major impact has occurred. No one’s life is different, really. A couple of people have moved out of each other’s circle of contact, into others. That sort of flux is shifting, shaping, restructuring all the time. There’s nothing new there. This happens hundreds, thousands, hell, millions of times a day. Maybe tens of millions, or billions. I don’t know. It happens all the time, everyday. One person moves from one sphere of influence to another, and the one left behind will drift into another as well.