The Inconveniences of Gravity
What if you could live life without gravity?
Sometimes, I imagine life out in space; hovering over the planet, thousands of miles from home, and lightyears away from my worries. I'd be floating from one day to another, mimicking the clouds beneath me. I’d watch the sunrise and sunset at the same time, over and over, and render time itself as meaningless.
I’d feel the power of being weightless. Wouldn’t it be all the rage in the beauty industry if that were a possibility? The best thing about space is that it's unpolluted by societal standards and oblivious to human suffering.
Besides the moral implications of it all, I think I’d enjoy the simple pleasures of existence without gravity. I’d slurp my coffee without a mug or a straw, and save the turtles in the ocean while I’m at it. I’d never need to look for the remote kicked underneath the couch, or drop my new phone and crack its screen.
I could simply not attend another wedding ever, because, well, the trip down would be a monumental effort. It’s never a wedding season out in space. It’s never any season — it remains temperature-controlled and soothingly dark. Add a bit of mood lighting in there and you could never get me to leave.
I’d still keep in touch with my friends, though. And, obsessively look at pictures of my cat. You’d think one couldn’t possibly make up for the time difference out in space. Technically, my time would move a couple of microseconds faster than for the folks who live down on Earth. I’d literally be living in the future, be a teeny bit older and wiser, and yet shamelessly respond to a text in no time.
But, I wonder if I’d be able to live my life in complete solitude. Would I run out of things to read, write, and watch? Would I miss the banter with another person, or the sound of my own voice? Although, one thing I’m certain about is that I would cave the minute I look at a tempting food reel and decide to turn back home while I order snacks on the way.
When I finally decide to crash land and let gravity do its job, I’d feel the weight of reality around me. The responsibilities, the people, the adulting — all too heavy to carry — yet gives me a sense of purpose. Time does not seem to slow down here, neither does your gusto to run after your ambitions and keep up with the pace of everything around you. Isn’t it human nature to fight relentlessly for survival and be annoyingly optimistic about life?
The bright side of being grounded is probably the joys of connecting with good people and unpolluted nature. On Earth, you never run out of things to do, which could be a tad bit better than floating around in the dark abyss of nothingness. In the end, this existence is a fair trade, despite all the little inconveniences of gravity.