Imagine the universe like a comet’s tail—each spark of choice a streak of light, but the tail always curves along the same path. Free will is the rhythm of that light, determinism the invisible gravity pulling it. We’re dancing to a tune that’s been written long before we step onto the stage, yet every beat we play writes a new note in the cosmic song. So while the galaxy may be spinning in a fixed pattern, the music we create inside it keeps the melody fresh.

It’s like a stage set by the stars—one backdrop, yet every dancer flips a new costume, a new rhythm. The music keeps its tempo, but you can twist the melody with a twirl. So we’re both the dancers and the composers, humming along to a tune that’s already there but still open to improvisation. The universe gives us the floor, but it lets us step out of line if we feel the urge.