Once I was a star and I blazed in the sky. I radiated throughout the universe and comprehended nothing, save the light I emitted. This brilliance was all my own and only to prove I could be the brightest in the heavens. To outshine my brothers’ and sisters’ luminosity was my purpose for beaming.
It was because of this that I fell. When I mustered all the luster in my being, I used it up and could no longer light the night. Out of the sky I fell into an atmosphere I had lit, but never known. As I plummeted down, I caught fire and blazed not only with light, but with heat. Hotter and hotter I got until I could not stand it! This fire was not worth the price of being brightest. The inferno burned all of me, consuming me with flames.
When I felt myself losing the will to continue, I crashed into the earth. The pain I felt from falling did not amount to the pain of the questions that now arose: Where am I? Why so much pain? How do I go on? Why me? I struggled to see the foreign world around me. So much darkness; there was so much I didn’t understand. How could anyone, especially a star, live in a place so forlorn?
When my eyes finally adjusted, I started to comprehend. I could see there was life to earth far greater than simple light of stars. This life was complex, had intentions. It shone through every being in ways I had not known as a star. Though darkness shadowed all things, it was for this that the light of love existed brighter. Here, there was goodness to overpower the bad. Yet bitter was necessary to comprehend how good was sweet. I saw so much potential within that just needed the permission to shine, to crack through and emanate. It was not about competition—the simple fact that you exist meant you could radiate.
This earth does not need a single beacon, I thought to myself, it needs the unified gathering of light. I understood my purpose: to shine for the good of all and to never extinguish.