For some odd reason, today during my cold morning 8-miler, all I could think about was the fact that I vividly remember the time when I didn’t completely understand what ‘particles’ meant.

I was in second or third grade, and we were just starting the unit in science when we were discussing what gravity and particles and mass are. I’m not sure if that’s the normal time to be learning about those very basic science things, but that’s what we were doing. And that’s when we were doing it. Anyway, we had a project assigned for the science fair that year, and we had to come up with an experiment that we could follow-up with a poster board to display to other students. I was over at my neighbor’s house (she was in the same grade I was,) and we were trying to decide what to do with her mom. The conversation went something like this:

Me: I’m just not sure what we could do about this project thing though. Any ideas?
Friend: I like the idea of mass. Let’s do something with that.
Me: Okay, how about some sort of comparison of something?
Friend’s mom: What about comparing which uses more water – a shower versus a bath?
Friend: Obviously the shower takes more. The water runs longer.
Me: Yeah, that makes sense.
Friend’s mom: But think about all the particles.

I don’t really remember what happened after that exactly, and that little blurb is by no means a completely accurate recollection of what happened that afternoon, but what I do remember is thinking “man, these dang vocab words are everywhere. I actually have to learn these, don’t I.”

Trust me, I realize how absurd of a thought that is to have about the word particles. PARTICLES. Of all the words to have an epiphany of needing to learn vocab words, my word was particles.

It’s not even a cool word. It’s not a word that looks cool written out. It’s… particles. Why.

I wish I could tie this back to life. I wish I could say ‘and now particles are my life.’ I wish I could say that it’s symbolic in some way, but I can’t. The only thing I can say about it is that this situation is proof to myself that epiphanies aren’t always a big deal. Epiphanies can be small. They can be insignificant.



Author: erikabunk

Raised in Northern Minnesota. BA in Radio/Business & Entrepreneurship. Painfully average marathoner. Spends too much time on Spotify, in search of the best record store in the world, and dreams of returning to Reykjavík.

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