The names don't matter

The sun comes up every day. Whether I see it or not, it is there. I know it is there because it always has been and I am alive and breathing. The sun is the sun no matter what I call it. It does what it does whether I know what that is, or not. The names don't matter.

There is the same amount of water on earth as there was in the beginning. It comes around, goes around, lies stagnant in some algae ridden pond, but it's here. Like it or not I am sharing the same water that other life forms all over the earth are using. All kinds of people, mammals, reptiles, trees, plants and mountains full of minerals have touched this water that is now inside of me. We are the same in some ways. Our names do not matter.

The bounteous, luxuriant, varied numbers of life forms on earth all depend on each other by being born into being, drawing sustenance from the earth, dying and feeding all that comes after it. The cycle I call life goes on and on and on, intermingling at the most basic of levels. Our common denominator shows we are one. A name just describes the way the building blocks come together.

 The earth is old, the sun is ancient, the universe has age beyond comprehension and the creator of it all, by any name, is indiscernible.

I want to name this creator. I want to define it and find my little niche of power within the confines of this creator, but it is so much more than me that all I can do is try to fall into its arms and let it be, confident that I am part of something bigger than anything I can imagine and the names don't matter.