I am aware.
I am aware of space, of distance between free-floating bodies, and of the subtle attraction between them which guides them into proximity. There was no time before now; just a dimly-remembered white flash as I came into my awareness. Birth, or perhaps creation – I cannot say.
I am aware of time, of moments passing from one to the next, and of cause and effect. Vibrations merge, matter and energy coalesce and react, and primal states change. This is the nature of my awareness – self-interaction – but I cannot separate space from time and maintain this cohesive awareness.
I am aware of scale and structure, of fine detail both great and small, and of the delicate balance between them. Complex fractal dimensions play out within me, and I am aware of each as they interact. This is important, but I do not – cannot – understand why.
I am aware of life, of the diversity of forms at all scales, and of the struggle inherent to existence. Joy and suffering fill me as a spectrum of experience that encompasses all that I am. I am born, I live, and I die, only to be reborn into new forms, new configurations. I learn, and my experience transcends each life through word, song, and example. It seems senseless, but this reflects my limited understanding.
I am aware of awareness, and I am aware that I am aware. There is a deeply recursive paradox here, and this paradox troubles me. I have questions about myself – an infinity of questions – that cannot be answered. All I know is what I am – what comes before or after are and will forever be mystery.