“My Eternity” a reflection.
An ancestral philosophical awakening that remains vibrantly alive within each of us.
I do not know exactly when it happened. No calendar can record that moment. No stone preserves its date. No language had yet been born to name it. And yet, somehow, we all remember it.
It happened hundreds of thousands of years ago, before cities, gods, borders, empires, and even words existed. Before anyone could utter “life,” “death,” or “I.”
It was the most silent and most consequential moment in all of human history.
It did not descend from the sky like lightning.
It did not emerge from a volcano.
It did not shake the earth.
It was something infinitely deeper.
It was the moment when matter opened its eyes within itself and discovered that it was temporary.
The moment when life realized that one day it would cease to live.
Sometimes I imagine that I was there.
Not as an individual, but as part of that vast current of collective consciousness that flows through generations, bodies, and ages, enriching itself as it goes.
I see that ancient hominin seated beside a fire.
Perhaps he was a Neanderthal.
Perhaps an even more distant ancestor.
His name has been lost because names did not yet exist.
Night surrounds him like an ocean of primordial darkness.
Above him shine the very same stars that still watch us today from the depths of the cosmic abyss.
Beside him lies someone beloved.
He does not know the word love. Yet he loves.
He does not know the word pain. Yet he suffers.
He does not know the word eternity. Yet he has already begun to miss it.
The fire crackles.
Shadows dance upon the rocks.
The wind carries ashes into the immensity.
Then the dying one breathes once more.
And again….. And again.
Each breath seems to come from a depth ever farther away.
Until they look at one another.
And in that instant, the entire universe seems to hold its breath.
Their eyes meet.
They exchange no words.
They exchange something older than language itself.
Something that belongs to the very mystery of existence.
One gaze begins to fade.
The other watches.
And in watching, awakens.
He is not merely witnessing a death.
He is witnessing a revelation.
For suddenly he understands.
Not as an idea.
Not as reasoning.
Not as a concept.
But as a luminous wound piercing through his being.
What is happening before him will one day happen to him as well.
The same energy now leaving that body will someday leave his own.
The darkness advancing across those eyes will one day advance across his.
And then vertigo is born.
The first vertigo in history.
The first crack in the apparent continuity of the world.
The first time existence contemplates itself from the edge of the abyss.
That night, something greater than fear was born.
Consciousness was born.
The self was born.
The question was born.
For the first time, the universe became capable of questioning itself.
Soon afterward, something even more extraordinary occurred.
Those beings did something no other known creature had ever done.
They gathered around the motionless body.
They touched it.
They observed it.
They mourned it.
And then they buried it.
They were not merely burying flesh and bone.
They were burying a certainty.
And unearthing a mystery.
That primitive funeral was far more than a ritual.
It was humanity’s first metaphysical act.
The first symbolic rebellion against the indifference of time.
The first silent declaration that death meant something.
Perhaps they placed flowers beside the body.
Perhaps red pigments.
Perhaps tools.
Perhaps carved bones.
Perhaps their own tears.
No one can know with certainty.
Yet within that awkward and sacred gesture, an irreversible transformation occurred.
Death ceased to be merely a biological event.
It became a philosophical question.
A question so profound that it continues expanding even now.
A question that still haunts me.
For it was there that all other questions were born.
Who am I?
Where do I come from?
Where am I going?
Why is there something rather than nothing?
Why do I love?
Why do I suffer?
Why do I think?
Why has the universe produced creatures capable of questioning the universe?
Since then, we have walked accompanied by that wound.
The hunters who crossed the glacial plains carried it.
The builders of temples carried it.
The poets, prophets, philosophers, and scientists carried it.
And we carry it too.
The same question.
The same wonder.
The same fire.
Before it, two great paths emerged.
One offered consolation.
The intuition that there exists an invisible order.
A purpose.
A cosmic intelligence.
A hidden architecture behind reality.
According to this vision, death is not an ending.
It is a doorway.
A passage.
A return.
The other path embraced the vertigo.
The possibility that existence is an extraordinary cosmic improvisation.
An improbable spark born amid creative chaos.
Here there are no guarantees.
No written script.
No assured destiny.
Yet precisely because of this, every moment acquires absolute value.
Every life becomes unrepeatable.
Every decision participates in the creation of the future.
Both paths arise from the same ancestral discovery.
We are the beings who know that we are going to die.
And precisely because of that, we are also the beings who seek meaning.
Perhaps all of human history is nothing more than a long conversation around that first fire.
Art.
Religion.
Philosophy.
Science.
Ethics.
Memory.
Love.
All of them may be understood as different responses to the same original trembling.
Death forced us to awaken.
But death is not what made us truly human.
The question did.
For the moment we dared to ask, we ceased to be mere inhabitants of the universe.
We became the place where the universe began to contemplate itself.
And ever since, we have continued the journey.
Not toward a final answer.
But toward ever greater depths of mystery.
Like pilgrims of an infinite question.
Like guardians of a flame kindled hundreds of thousands of years ago.
A flame that still burns within every consciousness that wonders who it is, where it comes from, and what it means to be here.
The same flame.
The same fire.
The same wonder.
The same “I Am, that I am”……………………… the Eternal.
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