The Ocean and The Rock

The Ocean and the Rock are the oldest of friends. To the two of them it seems as if they’ve known each other forever, but this is not so. The Rock was born first, rolling in from some nearby, unseeable corner of space. She had taken her time, rolling around in stardust and emptiness and pulling herself together in the new-formed light of an infant sun. The Rock drew a miasma around herself and for eons she spun in barrenness and confusion, lonely and timeless. She felt, for a long time, that she was destined to forever look up and out at the heavens that made her and wonder what else there could be.

The Ocean came into being differently. They were pulled out of a thousand points in the vastness of the universe. They had been spread and scattered everywhere (nowhere) until suddenly a force took hold of them that they could not resist. Around the Rock they drew themself, getting as close as they dared to see what had drawn them there. The Ocean was furious to be torn away from the vast and free Universe. They raged against the Rock with winds and storms, churning and fighting with all their might. The Rock stayed steady and took the storm gladly. The Ocean fumed in the sky for as long as their energy would allow but the Rock, silent and solemn, harboring her own volcanic turmoil, simply waited and waited. 

Finally, exhausted, the Ocean asked why the Rock had brought them there.

“I didn’t mean to. I felt a need so strong that I reached out. And you came.” The Rock answered in wonder. The Ocean was so moved by this that they let out a great sigh and, with a hiss, began to fall against the Rock. Their embrace was the beginning of life. 

With the Ocean in her arms, the Rock felt nourished and loved. Held by the Rock, the Ocean felt safe, but tethered. Together they spun through the cosmos, sharing their own singular ball of light. The Rock was content. The Ocean was not. The Ocean would stretch ever lightwards, resting by their edges as they moved with fascination toward the Sun. Once, out of the darkness around them, hurled an interloper. He came whooshing toward the pair and struck the rock, breaking her.

From the wreckage, a smaller rock formed, catching the light and becoming like a second sun above them. The Ocean, temperamental and bounteous with love, rushed to observe them both and in the midst of their excitement, they would thrash and churn and lash the Rock, as was their unwitting nature.

The Rock remained solemn and steady, and said “Ocean you are changing my shape.”

To which the Ocean replied “Yes, and isn’t it wonderful?” So the Rock decided it was alright.

The Ocean passed all of their time swirling and whirling, thrashing around and around in their elliptical dance. This slowly began to wear away at the Rock. The Rock would say “Ocean, you are smoothing me away.”

To which the Ocean would reply “Yes, and isn’t it wonderful?” And because the Ocean wanted it, the Rock decided it was alright.

As the Ocean was formless, so could they never change. Even as life began to crawl from them, and inflict ever more drastic change to the surface of the Rock, the Ocean did not change. 

Soon the Rock began to lose herself, to disappear, and she cried “Ocean, you have reshaped me, you have smoothed me and now you are making me disappear!”

And the Rock really had begun to disappear. Because of the ocean, the Rock was now covered in soil, leaves, snow, gold, grass, waste, wrapped in cities, clothed in life, beset with war, children, gods, and the enemies of gods, littered with words for all of this and suddenly given a name, a thousand names. 

Because of the Ocean, she was now measured up, dissected and defined, observed, and abandoned all at once.

And the Ocean replied “Yes, and isn’t it wonderful? You have become beautiful and now I love you!”

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