Essay for UChicago: Why are you here and not somewhere else?

I am here because there is no where else I can be. I am here, but not anymore. Life is a constant crossroads, and here is only a certain intersection, gone by with each fleeting second, going by rapidly, speeding — I am barely holding on.

Here is the desk I am sitting in, not moving except for the rotation of the Earth, the revolution around the Sun, the persistent movement across the cosmos. I can walk across the room, but I don’t think I can tell the Solar System where to go.

Here is everywhere, because anything is possible. Sometimes I sit, waiting for the the rain to start falling on a cloudless sky. Other times I tune in to the radio, listening for my name. Here is nowhere, because only a sliver of possibilities ever occur. Here is what is happening, what has happened, and what may happen, all rolled into one. But I am not sure, though, about what is happening, what has happened, and definitely what may happen; so I don’t know where I am — that is why I am everywhere and nowhere.

Happiness is never here. It’s always somewhere near the horizon, hidden behind the mountains somewhere. But neither is sadness. Sadness is always in the past, encroaching on the present, but still behind. I am running from sadness to happiness, with the stamina of limited life, running endlessly here — here in the in-between land.

Perhaps I am here because an Ancient Egyptian from the 12th century BC decided to go down the Nile to the marketplace and buy some grain instead of tending to his sick sister. You know, butterfly effect and all. Perhaps we are all where we are because of that.

I went to New York City once, to a subway station, I don’t remember which one. I looked at the map, which was framed on the tiled wall. I saw that vibrant, round, red dot that was labeled “You are here” in nice, big block letters. I tilted my head, and took a step to the right. The dot stayed right there, not moving.  

Children often ask, “why, why, why?”  It is partially, I think, because they have not learned much about the world yet, but also because they haven’t started taking things for granted. “Why am I here and not somewhere else?” Though I am in some senses, still a child, I must assert a position of adulthood in this situation. And in this instance, I shall answer as such:

“ ”

The reasons don’t always make sense. They are either wrong, or they operate in a way that is beyond our comprehension. These are the unanswered and unanswerable questions. These are the many questions that may be currently answered incorrectly. Shall we declare the falsities we claim to be true with greater conviction than ever before, or shall we revel in the uncertainties of the universe?

I am here because the forces of the universe have worked in a way that has landed me in this place at this time, a house surrounded by houses, in a city surrounded by cities. I am here because I think I choose to be here, though I am not so sure if that’s the case.

Here is a mystery, a perpetual mystery, of which I am trying to make myself content in its presence.

Here is a fragment, or a combination of fragments: fragments of something meaningful, I hope, a part of everything, a part of me.

And here I come…