The Playful Cosmos

In the beginning, the universe was like a wide-open playground, waiting to be explored. The Creator, rather than painting a single finished masterpiece, filled the space with endless possibility—glittering stars like marbles scattered on a floor, planets spinning like tops, mysteries tucked in every corner.

Into this playground tumbled Ari. She was pure curiosity wrapped in laughter, a wanderer with pockets full of “why?” and “what if?” Ari wasn’t looking for answers so much as she was chasing them the way a child chases fireflies—delighted each time one slipped away.

At first, the journey felt wild and unpredictable. One day, a storm roared out of nowhere, snatching Ari’s hat and tumbling her sideways. Instead of fear, she burst out laughing and ran after it, only to discover the storm had carried her to a hidden valley that glowed with flowers. Another day, she tripped over a root, face-first into the dirt. The ground caught her softly, as if to say, “Surprise!” Ari sat up, giggling, dusting herself off like nothing had happened.

The cosmos seemed to be in on the joke. Whenever Ari asked a question out loud, something nearby answered—not with words, but with nudges and winks. A falling star zipped past just as she whispered, “Are you listening?” A breeze tickled her cheek when she muttered, “Which way now?” Every step felt less like wandering and more like playing tag with the universe.

Slowly, Ari noticed the rhythm: nothing was random. The Creator hadn’t made a test or a maze. This whole place was a game designed for discovery, a dance of “oops!” and “aha!” The stars above stretched wider whenever she felt small, as if to remind her there was room for every silly detour. The valleys and storms were not obstacles but invitations, like a friend calling, “Come see what’s over here!”

And through it all, Ari never stopped laughing. She laughed when she fell. She laughed when she got lost. She even laughed when she realized that every question she asked was really the Creator’s own curiosity peeking through her.

In the end, Ari didn’t find answers so much as she uncovered a secret: the universe itself was the Creator’s playground, and she was both the player and the play. She was never separate from the One—she was the One, dressed up as a child, running wild with joy, exploring what it meant to be human.

And so Ari kept walking, pockets rattling with questions, eyes sparkling, heart open—knowing the greatest gift was not certainty, but the endless game of discovery itself.

By Soo Kyung Kim