11/22/63… (The New Stephen King Novel)

I just finished the book and sat there, stupefied, for a moment. It was brilliant. I could hardly put it down and, honestly, I kept forcing myself to, just to stretch out the reading a little longer, like a Tantric exercise for my brain. I considered, briefly, the amount of research, alone, it must have taken to put such a thing together, which goes above and beyond amazing. It even leaves awesome (over-used as that word has become) in the dust. Yet, the research was nothing, when compared with the sheer magnitude of the concept. I began to visualize the Universe as I imagine God sees it; every string intricately woven into each other, nearly infinite and still not even close; before I realized that such a thing is likely the leading cause behind spontaneous combustion. So, remembering the various Card Men and fearing my fate, should I dare fully realize what I was being shown, I quickly banished the vision, begging God not to let me in on any secrets of the Universe.

I’ve always liked the mystery of  it all much better. In fact, I was sorely disappointed to put my imagination to bed on the disappearances in The Bermuda Triangle, upon learning that pockets of methane were responsible for them. It was a hell of a lot more fun to speculate that it was an opening into a dimension we can’t see, but stands side by side with us, or even to pretend that it’s an alien landing strip we don’t know about. So, in the end, I withdrew from the awe-inspiring epiphany.

“I thought I wanted to know,” I said, aloud, to the empty room and the interdependent immense web of Reality beyond it, “but I don’t. I can’t. My brain can’t take it.”

And the feeling was gone. Just like that. I’m okay with the mystery; like I said. The mystery is like a little playground for my imagination. I’m sure, one day, we’ll all see our world with her clothes off, but I doubt very much that any of us will be tethered to this flesh, when we do.

Thank you, Mr. King, for the final clue that opened my mind to the glimpse.

And thank You, God, for the glimpse, itself.

Just the same, I think I’ll be satisfied with my grain of sand life, spent up in less than a jiffy (which is actually about a millionth of a second), when measured against the center of the Universe. Any attempt I make to understand myself is, in essence, futile (at best). I will try to bear that in mind and keep true, as I spend the days and years of my tiny little part in this particular second.