There is something magnificent about looking up into the
night sky and feeling as though you can see every star that has ever been or
that will ever be. Laying on your back
in the grass and just basking in the grandeur of the universe. In that moment, you feel so small and yet the
fact that YOU get to see it all and experience it all makes you feel so
important and necessary. What good is
beauty if no one takes the time to enjoy it, right?
I’m no astronomer, and I have to use an app on my phone to
know what anything is (except for Jupiter and Mars, apparently…), but I have
always appreciated moments when I was able to pause and look up. My dad and uncle both had/have fantastic
telescopes, and I remember as a little girl being taught how to find the stars
and focus in on them. There’s something though
about craning your neck and attempting to see all that you can possibly see in
those moments, and those are the moments that I want to focus on tonight as I
write.
When I was in 9th or 10th grade, I was
able to go to Langano in Ethiopia with some friends for the week. We helped out at a clinic by day and explored
the area, hunting for chameleons to take home as pets, in the afternoon. One night, the five of us middle/high
schoolers went and camped down by the lake.
All of my irrational (and quite frankly rational in rural Ethiopia, but
let’s call them irrational so no one freaks out about the what could have been’s)
fears were set aside as we set up tents and got ready to enjoy the sounds of evening
that surrounded us. At some point, while we were all laughing and telling
stories, someone looked up. Suddenly,
the sleeping bags were repositioned and the five of us had our heads outside of
our tents, gazing in wonder at what was above us. The sky was a glorious connect the dot
picture that was so complex and intricate that it was impossible to figure out
where one dot ended and another began. I
fell asleep gazing at those stars…and convinced that a python or something worse
was going to kill me in my sleep. Those
stars though…unforgettable.
In 10th grade, the star gazing continued in Addis
Ababa as well. My best friend and I would
walk around campus each night, processing the day, talking about big life
challenges and issues, and star gazing.
The southern cross would come into view each night from the place where
we sat at the end of our walks, laughing and crying and being. We couldn’t see
as many stars as I had that night in the tent, but what we could see was almost
a sign of hope. A sign of more.
My senior year of high school, there was some sort of cosmic
event that was a must see. It might have been an eclipse, but I can’t remember
now. What I do remember is the entire
senior class meeting on the field at 2 a.m. to watch whatever it was. We felt so rebellious that night, but not because
we were rebelling…we just wanted to be together and experience that
once-in-a-lifetime view. Many nights we
would lay on the field and watch for shooting stars, but that night was
different. We were all there, one last
late-night hurrah…and goodness was it cold, but beautiful.
There are so many more moments involving stars that I could
share. This summer in Switzerland with one of my favorite kiddos after a World
Cup Game. This fall in Thailand after my
brother’s wedding. Seeing that one start that always seems to peak out even
here in bustling Chengdu…
You never know what might pop up in the sky if you just take
the time to look up.
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