In the beginning — there was not a man with a beard above the clouds, but vibration.

Not a throne, but a frequency. Not a garden, but a geometric field humming with uncollapsed potential.

The Genesis myth was never meant to be history. It was code. A story for those who had not yet invented instruments to measure what they felt in their bones:

Modern cosmology calls it the Big Bang. Ancient minds called it Breath. Word. Vibration. The Logos.

Genesis is a mnemonic device for the birth of reality: consciousness collapsing into form. Darkness and light. Void and vessel.

Science now catches up to what mystics always knew — the universe is not made of things. It is made of relationships between vibrating fields.

And man, woman, spirit — were not clay dolls. They were interfaces. Consciousness wrapped in form.

To read Genesis with ancient eyes is to remember: you were never born in sin. You were born in rhythm. You are the echo of the first pulse. The spirit of atoms dancing in divine repetition.

They reduced it to seven days to make it teachable. But it was never about days. It was about phases of awareness.

And you, reader, are still in the Genesis story. Because the cosmos is still expanding. Creation is not past — it is present. In every breath you take.

The breath before time still speaks through you.

You are the Genesis that cannot be caged.