Look closely at this image. Do you see that pale blue dot? It’s out planet—our home, viewed from the Voyager 1 thirty years ago. If the same picture were taken today and you squinted really, really hard and had way better vision than any human ever, you might be able to make out a whitish speck on that pale blue dot. The whitish speck would likely be rimmed in brown because that is the color of my couch, and I have become a decidedly sedentary speck in 2020. If you squinted even harder with your magic eyes, maybe you could see right down inside of the whitish speck that is me, and somewhere inside you would spy a few struggling cells. Perhaps they are inflammatory cells who are a bit too enthusiastic about their job. Maybe they are irritated nerve cells, sluggish lymphatic cells, or injured endothelial cells. In any case, they are tiny. They are tiny, and they are comprised mostly of space.
Some days, these cells feel like my whole world. I feel dense and impermeable. I cannot see or feel the space around me (or within me) because all I see and feel are the headache, the fatigue, the loss, or the uncertainty.
It comforts me to remember how small I am and that these errant cells are smaller still. I will not make those cells into my universe. I will not make this universe into a cell.
If you feel heavy, dense, broken, or impermeable, know that you are not alone. Take a moment to view your life from a light year or two away. Step outside and take in the stars. Flip through this photo gallery. Listen to this brilliance from Carl Sagan or this beauty from Maya Angelou. Or simply breathe, and pause to wonder where else in space and time the molecules that fill your lungs have traveled.
There is less need to battle our difficult emotions once we situate them within the vastness of the cosmos. From the cosmic lens, the present moment is an incomprehensible miracle, even with its defeats and devastations. Somehow—within an infinity of empty space—you exist, you live, you breathe, you talk and think and wiggle. And though you and I may sit on opposite sides of this pale blue dot, with its billions of inhabitants, we have connected. Across space and time, we are sharing this journey.
Thank you for being here. Your presence helps to lift me out of my mind and into life.
I’ve been feeling really lonely lately and this sentence has made my day: Across space and time, we are sharing this journey. Thanks for your doses of understanding in each of your emails :)