I’m looking up at the sky and there are four vapour trails breaking up the morning sun. Made by tiny aeroplanes carrying a couple of hundred microscopic people to final destinations where the will all be soldier ants weaving a course in line and then spreading out into a tiny ants’ nest of a town, all going their different ways, all living their own lives in a seemingly pointless urgency to exist, enjoy, find meaning. All over our world, billions of ants huddled in dwellings each night with varying degrees of comfort, sleeping in shifts as the world turns, plunging them into night for a few hours then causing them to rise again, rinse and repeat. And, in all of this, there is the production and consumption, trading and dealing, giving and stealing of mountains of stuff. From the smallest trinket, the most banal object, to technology, property, land, whole countries. When I look at an ant’s nest, it is merely a fractal of this whole, with no greater or lesser significance. How can it be less significant? When we look at our little blue ball in space, its surface faintly alive with miniscule movements, zapping and flashes of light, and we pull back and back into the infinite, it soon disappears. Yet it is so real and important to us, right now. Our egos make it so, and so I am driven to wonder if the ego is the greater part of us, necessary to give conscience to our spirit and connect us to this infinite space through our soul or whatever our non-physical is. And I know I will never know.