Stars
In a perfect world, the stars would call to anyone and everyone – to all. Religions throughout the ages have started in deserts for a reason; the crisp nights and utter isolation leave one with clearer skies than anywhere else, giving the viewer a completely unadulterated view of the galaxies, the endless vista of bright points – the Universe, and a hint of the multitude of mysteries It contains. Not for nothing have men been obsessed with the stars – what are they, what do they mean, what do they signify, who put them there and why, how do they affect our self-image? Indeed, it seems almost bizarre that most of us as a race, a species, the supposedly-sentient Homo Sapiens Sapiens, today can continue to walk around, exist, thrive even, with an Unknown of such staggering magnitude over our heads, and remain oblivious to it.
When I look at the stars, something inside me trembles, shivers, terrified and exalted all at once, almost buckling under the weight of something I can’t quite put my finger on. All I know is that it is ethereal, uncanny, inhuman, cold yet incendiary, and so far removed from anything I am as to be completely unknowable – and yet they beckon and pull at me in ways I don’t understand. Looking out from a plane, thousands of miles up in the air, and seeing them apparently in front of me magnifies the feeling ten-fold; I feel so incredibly close to them, as if they really are in front of me, just as they appear, close enough to touch – and it is at times like this that one finds oneself resolving, no matter how, to get up there someday, to get as close as is possible, this side of death, to Them.
Is it the fact that they are so enormously far away from me as to almost be unreal? Perhaps – and yet it seems strange that things so completely removed from me should affect me so. Maybe it is that the Creator might have made them simply to delight Himself, much as a child decorates a Christmas tree with electric lights – the sheer enormity of such extravagance leaves me in awe, both of His wonder and the beauty of His creation. Then again it could be an intrinsic desire of mine to get there, to get as close as possible to such stunning beauty. Possibly it’s my mind feeling daunted by the mystery that they are, and compelled, much as so many of us are compelled by whichever supreme deity heads our faith, towards them.
As is often the case, the pat and scientific answer as to what they are provides no satisfaction. Explaining that stars are massive balls of combusting energy and fuel, of hydrogen and helium, doesn’t satiate anything within me – because that explains the form without touching the substance; describes the matter without approaching the mystery. Stars, each and every bright, twinkling point, encapsulate so much of the Unknown, the Unknowable, and the Otherworldly
In a perfect world, the stars would call to anyone and everyone – to all. Religions throughout the ages have started in deserts for a reason; the crisp nights and utter isolation leave one with clearer skies than anywhere else, giving the viewer a completely unadulterated view of the galaxies, the endless vista of bright points – the Universe, and a hint of the multitude of mysteries It contains. Not for nothing have men been obsessed with the stars – what are they, what do they mean, what do they signify, who put them there and why, how do they affect our self-image? Indeed, it seems almost bizarre that most of us as a race, a species, the supposedly-sentient Homo Sapiens Sapiens, today can continue to walk around, exist, thrive even, with an Unknown of such staggering magnitude over our heads, and remain oblivious to it.
When I look at the stars, something inside me trembles, shivers, terrified and exalted all at once, almost buckling under the weight of something I can’t quite put my finger on. All I know is that it is ethereal, uncanny, inhuman, cold yet incendiary, and so far removed from anything I am as to be completely unknowable – and yet they beckon and pull at me in ways I don’t understand. Looking out from a plane, thousands of miles up in the air, and seeing them apparently in front of me magnifies the feeling ten-fold; I feel so incredibly close to them, as if they really are in front of me, just as they appear, close enough to touch – and it is at times like this that one finds oneself resolving, no matter how, to get up there someday, to get as close as is possible, this side of death, to Them.
Is it the fact that they are so enormously far away from me as to almost be unreal? Perhaps – and yet it seems strange that things so completely removed from me should affect me so. Maybe it is that the Creator might have made them simply to delight Himself, much as a child decorates a Christmas tree with electric lights – the sheer enormity of such extravagance leaves me in awe, both of His wonder and the beauty of His creation. Then again it could be an intrinsic desire of mine to get there, to get as close as possible to such stunning beauty. Possibly it’s my mind feeling daunted by the mystery that they are, and compelled, much as so many of us are compelled by whichever supreme deity heads our faith, towards them.
As is often the case, the pat and scientific answer as to what they are provides no satisfaction. Explaining that stars are massive balls of combusting energy and fuel, of hydrogen and helium, doesn’t satiate anything within me – because that explains the form without touching the substance; describes the matter without approaching the mystery. Stars, each and every bright, twinkling point, encapsulate so much of the Unknown, the Unknowable, and the Otherworldly
posted by Timothy at 11:18 pm
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