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Gordon Hammond is my best friend. We came to know each other by exchanging ideas in letters for five years. One concept we agreed on is that humans live on a minuscule planet, located somewhere within an endless number of galaxies extending outward in all directions forever; while simultaneously extending in the opposite inward direction where earth’s fragments are of unimaginable molecular smallness, and never discontinue becoming smaller and smaller and smaller forever. From that perspective on an unspeakably insignificant planet, lost in an uncountable number of galaxies we human beings judge the worth of everything else.
We believe we are different from all else. That we do not belong to all else. We indiscernible, amorphous depictions of arrogance believe we are superior to all else. Not part of all else, but ultimately possessing all else.
Gordon escaped those beliefs while living his life, and refused to remain in a world created by a society that encourages dishonesty and duplicity. He moved out of this world’s materialistic society into harmony with nature on his organic farm, committed to leaving no destructive footprints on this planet. Often on moonless nights, he’d walk to a clearing in his woods and gaze in awe at the Milky Way’s magnificent displays of galaxies, knowing he was seeing eternity. Knowing he was seeing everything there is. Knowing he was part of all there is. And confident in his heart, that after his death he would continue to be part of all there is. Because nothing does not exist.