Every time I played against Everton and home and away I thought about Stephen Hawking. You see, Stephen Hawking’s second marriage ended because his then wife claimed he was cheating, and you try to see it from his perspective. He spends all day thinking about these massive astronomical events, trillions of tiny interactions happening all the time, countless existences across the universe, from its end to its beginning, so from his perspective how can this one little thing be so wrong?
But then I think about it from his wife’s perspective and think, well Mr Hawking, you know how vast the cosmos is, and how it’s stretched from time immemorial to a time far away. You’ve found one person in all that whom loves you. Literally all of history and the vastness of creation and you can’t see how unique and special that is?
You see, the span of creation is so exciting and yet so lonely. Most of us won’t get to see even 5% of the world, never mind other ones. We’re so big and yet so small. Does my existence even matter? Are we here for a purpose or is our role in life merely to live it?