Not Worthy

There are certain things that you come across at various points in your life (hopefully) which immediately gives you a sense of such pleasurable bewilderment that you start wondering if you deserve what you are feeling at that very moment. It could be absolute unbridled love towards you by someone or something you experience someone has created. Regardless, either by fate or providence, and seemingly nothing of your doing, you are just present.

Love, in most cases, hopefully, is more or less deserved; the creation however. This creation is not the creator’s only creation but is unlike any other because this one was created only for themselves. It could be a piece of music, a book, a statue, a building, a painting, an inning, a performance, anything. If you experience it the way it is meant to, isolated from everything else, you get so enamored by it you barely realise that you’ve essentially left your plane of existence and entered the creator’s. That moment, you don’t care about externalities, it is just you, the creation and the creator. The next moment you feel you are so lost inside the creator’s world, you get the sense that you might actually be invading their privacy and maybe you’re not supposed to be there. Maybe you’re not meant to have this experience and it is meant only for the creator and no one else. You are not sure if anything created by a mere human could be so fascinating. Should it be so fascinating? And maybe it is so because that was the sole purpose of that human. You begin to wonder why you deserved to experience what you just did. You’ve never met or will never meet the creator and yet somehow you just entered their realm for the briefest of moments. Are you even qualified to feel what you just felt?
You understood the creation enough to feel all this, you could appreciate it to the extent not everyone can or will. You definitely earned what you felt. 

The creator was probably not brought on earth to create that piece, but maybe to make you experience what you just did.

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