Divided by Form, United by Energy

Where Do We Begin?

Where does the human body truly begin—and where does it end?

Ninety-three million miles away, the Sun casts its golden light upon us.

That light, born in the heart of a star, travels across space to touch our skin, triggering the creation of nutrients within us. It enters the leaves of green plants, which produce the oxygen we breathe. In turn, we exhale carbon dioxide—what plants take in.

The Sun heats our oceans, driving evaporation that becomes clouds. Those clouds return as rain to rivers, lakes, and aquifers. We drink this ancient water, and it flows through us, sustaining life.

The atoms within it have traveled across billions of years—and will continue long after we’re gone.

So where do we begin and end?

The Illusion of Separation

You might say,

“I am whatever is inside my body.”

But what about breath?

One moment it’s in, the next it’s out.

What about food?

It enters, nourishes, and leaves.

Hair falls.

Skin sheds.

Are those still “you?"

If you sweep your hair from the floor, are you sweeping yourself?

We like to think there’s a central “me” inside. But open up a human being and you won’t find a singular part that defines the whole.

We are not an object—we are a system. And that system is inseparable from the greater system that sustains it:

the environment.

We. Are. One. System.

United.

Energy in Motion

When you look at another person, you’re not seeing something static. You’re witnessing a living process.

Like galaxies in motion, we are made of energy, molecules, and cells in constant flux. Our breath, our metabolism, even our thoughts—are transformations of energy.

As physics reminds us: Energy is neither created nor destroyed. It simply transforms—again and again and again.

Stardust and Origin

Humans are born from the union of egg and sperm, forming a zygote—and under a microscope, zygotes sparkle like tiny stars.

Stars, too, are born from the fusion of hydrogen and helium. Some die in fiery supernovae, scattering their elements across the cosmos.

Those elements form planets, oceans, microbes… and us.

Do you see the pattern?

Just as we are born from the womb, everything we touch was once forged in the belly of stars:

The iron in your blood.

The calcium in your bones.

The oxygen in your lungs.

All of it—

stardust.

Every creature, mountain, and river—every being—is a recombination of ancient cosmic matter.

A Shared Field of Being

We carry within us atoms from dinosaurs, ancestors, strangers, and stars. Even now, as you breathe, you’re sharing particles with every living thing.

We may speak different languages, worship in different ways, and live in different lands—but beneath the surface, we are one energy in motion.

Call it God. Call it Allah. Call it the Unified Field. The names don’t matter.

What matters is the truth:

We are one species, living in one ecosystem, on one planet, orbiting one star, in one universe.

Living Like It Matters

For the sake of future generations, it’s time we started acting like it. Not with grand gestures, but in how we breathe, build, and belong—to each other and to the Earth.

It looks like compassion.

Shared responsibility.

And remembering that your well-being is tied to your neighbors.

It means seeing every being as made of the same sacred light—and treating the Earth not as a resource, but as a relative.

It begins with a shift in how we see—then in how we care, create, and connect.

Start small.

With your words.

With your choices.

With how you show up—

for people, for the planet, for the future.