At some point, the universal imaginaries that we had created and stored, those on which we based our understanding of the world and, consequently, our actions have become undone, have been destroyed. We collide with the greater silence. And there, without conceptual attachments, alien to all reference, submerged in potentiality, we were born again.
And, what is this magical chaos if not the relation between capacity and fact? What is it, if not absence? Absence to which the fluctuations of the quantum field, the continuous pendular movement of the universe, have dragged us.
The Zohar, the primary writing of the Kabbalah, states that in the beginning there was God, who was everything and that he had to contract Himself to create a void and, from there, he created the universe through emanations.
If it were not for emptiness, infinite in the universal perennial balance, if it were not for the lack and its infinite latent potentials, there would be no change, there would be no perpetual renewal of what we call the world. Metamorphosis is the container of wonder.
Evolution is contained in the vacuity, understood as a break, as a difference. In voracious hunger, the very essence of the human being as a universe is the fantasy that awaits to become a reality.