Written May 1977, before Star Wars debuted. :o)
There was, in a time when there was no time, a thing we shall call “Force”. Force was everything … and nothing. Force existed yet did not. Force was oblivion and total awareness. Impossible? Yes. But Force WAS.
Force wanted difference. Being everything meant there were no differences. Everything was known. It desired and decided to become that which it was not. It was perfect, therefore did not want perfection. It was infinite, therefore desired limits. It reviewed all its possibilities, as anything was possible, and chose to separate certain parts, which became opposites.
These opposites occupied much of the same space, thus conflict arose. (Force was delighted.) Force continued to separate opposites. Conflicts grew in number. Matter/antimatter came to be, life/death, form and formlessness … (and Force was delighted).
Each piece, each mote of Force’s making/being must, of course, continue to be only a separated part of Force. Force, being all, remained intact while separated. Thus, any fragment which has even a hint of awareness could, under the right circumstances, dimly conceive of the totality of Force.
To keep these opposites from rejoining, Force imbued each with the desire to remain as they were/are. Yet each, according to the system, would eventually have to change, constancy being a form of perfection.
Thus Force has occupied itself experiencing everything that each piece of itself must.
Thus what exists, IS.