Ki came from nothing

Far off in a distant universe, nothing existed. Not even infinite potential. The void was so black and colorless that it couldn’t be seen — if you had senses to see it, you’d be blinded as you tried to get a glimpse.

Ki came from nothing. It was not born of the void, it just suddenly appeared, like a shooting star. Ki was the Big Bang, if the Big Bang could be diluted trillions of times. Since its inception, ki has been everywhere at once, causing ripple effects that would make a butterfly’s head spin.


Ki created galaxies upon galaxies, including our sun and solar system. Ki is inside us and outside us — from the point of nothing at the center of the earth’s core to the ever-echoing reaches of the universe. Ki guides us without our knowing that it’s there. Ki is structure, sound and waves. It’s what makes our ears perk up and our skin tingle and gives us the weird impulse to call a friend halfway around the world at a particularly important moment in their life.

Ki is always on the move; so quick that you can never catch it. It’s two electrons dancing together in the same pattern. It’s the mother rabbit whose distress signals sound when her baby is being killed in a submarine far away. Ki never looks back, and yet it knows everything that has come before. Ki is, by default, totally at peace with now and now and now. Ki is intelligence.