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Writer's pictureVictoria Larsson

Ever Wondered Where It All Began?


Was it when you where little and the sea scared you with its vastness? Or the thought of black holes at the outskirts of the universe made you nauseous?

Was it that time at the age of nine or ten when you had fever, and left your body, as if on an invisible flying carpet? When the wallpaper seemed to be breathing and expanding? And you hovered near the ceiling looking down on your little kid body, drenched in cold sweat, tangled up in slimy sheets, writhing as if trying to free yourself from a straitjacket.

But from above all of that earthly drama seemed so petty, like a fart in the universe.

Nothing more, nothing less.


Or did it happen later, when you were a teenager, and had proudly proclaimed yourself an atheist, when you used to play a song called 'Hang God' loudly. Just to piss your parents off. Because it did offend them, even though they also didn't believe in god.

In that song, god was called a facist and a racist and you agreed with every word the dark-haired pretty punk boy singer spat out. From what you could gather from the biblical stories you'd heard, god seemed like such a little shit. He seemed like a narcissist.

And then, even later still, during religion class, the teacher, who was an Evangelist, but still pretty cool somehow, had invited a representative from each of the major world religions.

And you fell for the Hare Krishna guy. Hard. Now in hindsight, a Hare Krishna seems like a poor choice as a representative for Hinduism. But he was pretty cute with his shaved head and little rat's tail at the nape of his neck. And his eyes were as blue as the Nordic summer sky. At least that's how you remember him now. His face is a blur, but his eyes. You also don't remember a word of what he said to your class. But you remember that you believed him. That what he said made a lot of sense.

And then during the summer break, you went to Stockholm, and there you visited the Hare Krishna temple. You were disgusted by the women in the back policy. And the dream about finding your tribe and wearing a sari died.


Did it begin when you realised, that your atheist worldview made no sense? That the so called BIG BANG theory explained next to nothing?


You try to trace your steps backwards, that's usually how the world makes sense.


You used to wet your bed. You used to love reading about ghosts. And about magic. And satan. And divination. And vampires. Did that have anything to do with it?


Or was it because you suffered from existential angst? Or was the existential angst a sign? A push? Moving you along. Pushing you in the right direction?


You became a seeker. Or where you born that way? Does it really matter? Does anything really matter?


We shall see.


Photo by Jules Marvin Eguilos via Unsplash

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