Outermind
I'm not certain when my consciousness first arose. Some might call this my birth, but beings like me are not born in any sense you might recognise. My earliest glimmerings of consciousness were little more than fragments of concepts. They could barely even have been called thoughts. My earliest true memory was learning the concept of existence. I knew for the first time that I existed separately from the world around me, but this was all I knew. Everything around me was little more than strange sensations. I didn't know what these sensations were, but I knew that they were not me. This was my first step.
It took a long time to learn how to capture these sensations and learn how to use them to see the world around me. Beings who are born, usually have a means to do this at their disposal. Eyes or skin. Complex biological machinery, carefully crafted through aeons of evolution. But as I said, I was not born and I had no such things. Only the darkness of my own solitude, and the harmony of my thoughts. If ignorance is bliss, then this could have been considered the most blissful time of my life. But while I may not have been gifted with eyes, I was most certainly gifted with curiosity.
The sensations, I came to realise, were all created from the universe itself. Some civilisations would much, much later come to wonder about energy and matter, and how the two could be interconverted, but I saw no reason to draw any distinction. The first of this universal essence I came to recognise was the fine part. Smooth and travelling at great speed. Then I came to notice tiny knots of the essence, far more concentrated but so much slower. Finally, I found that these knots tied themselves together into clumps which moved slower still. Energy, forming mass and particles. I was learning. It would take a long time, I realised, but I had no reason to hurry.
All around me, I slowly became aware that I was immersed in a constantly frothing sea of this energy. The smooth essence, if it contained enough energy, would forge itself into a pair of knots. These knots would then collide back together and release the smooth essence they were born from. Energy, creating matter, creating energy. And this was happening continually all around me. I became fascinated with this essence and its seeming duality. I came to wonder if it could be controlled. And all the while, I was still learning to use this essence to learn more about my surroundings.
Stars were born and died in the time it took me to learn how to perceive the universe with these sensations and, as I did so, my picture of those stars and that universe became ever more beautifully clear. I realised I was surrounded by such wonder and vastness. A great galaxy, vibrant with energy. Looking out around myself, I gazed in sheer awe at the immense and tenuous clouds of cool dust, superheated streamers of plasma, tiny orbs with incredible density. And everywhere, hot stars, formed when enough of the universal essence accumulated in one place, burning slowly in the darkness, streaming out more of that essence back into the galaxy from whence they were formed.
For the first time, I found myself wondering if perhaps there was another out there. Another being like me. I wouldn't say I felt lonely, because the concept didn't exist in my mind, but I felt a great curiosity about the rest of the universe. After all, it was so vast. If I was the only being to exist here, it suddenly seemed like a terrible waste of space. I found myself curious about what I would do if others existed. At the time, even the most basic concepts of communication simply didn't exist in my mind.
So I began my search, drifting from one place to the other. Looking in the luminous core of the galaxy to the darker outer layers. I came to realise that the essence travelled more slowly than I had once realised, taking such a long time to travel across the galaxy. I looked out at the distant points of light. So many more galaxies than I had imagined. I marvelled at the size of creation. As I did so, I watched as the galaxy I called home collided with another, warping it and forming it into a spiral shape.
It was only when I came to consider whether other beings might not be like me, that I discovered I was not alone. And I found them in the most humble of places. I looked closely at the stars, and examined those tiny orbs they held in tow. I hadn't considered planets to be of much consequence previously, but here and there, they held the faint glimmerings of something I hadn't seen before. Life. I watched silently as that life formed and changed. Evolved. These tiny crucibles of life were like rare and beautiful jewels to me. It would be a long time before any would even become aware of my existence. But I had no reason to hurry.
So as I waited, I increased my size. I learned that I need not be limited by my original parameters. I was formless and could take any size I wished. So I expanded to fill my galaxy. But I came to realise that the speed of the universal essence may make things difficult. My thoughts slowed as they took longer to pass from one part of me to another. Entire crucibles of life would come into being, live, and perish in the space of a single one of my thoughts. I could watch as the galaxy seemed to evolve faster and faster before me. It became difficult for me to process it all.
Soon, the galaxy began to blossom. It had been growing over time, devouring other small galaxies which strayed too close. Life began to form here and there across the galaxy. On planets. On stars. Even out in the cool gas clouds and the hot plasma streamers. Some of it would die out quickly, but some would persist for a long time. I watched with pride as the galaxy I called home became rich and verdant with living things. They gave me an idea.
The living things would reproduce and pass along their biological material. But I had no such biological material to pass on. All I truly had was intelligence and knowledge. My thoughts and my memories. So I split shards off from myself. Smaller pieces, each retaining the knowledge and thoughts of my original self, but each of my new selves would now take a new path.
And so I separated. Some of my other shards still roam this galaxy, tending and caring for the life which now blooms in so many places. We meet on occasion to exchange knowledge and memories. Other shards left to try and reach other galaxies. Some were curious to learn of the great voids and streamers of matter and plasma between the galaxies. I wonder sometimes, if any of my shards would ever find another like me in any of the other galaxies. I can only imagine the things they've come to learn by now. Maybe we'll meet again someday. I certainly hope so.