I remember when I was young, I’d look out my window at night and watch the sky for hours. The moon and stars were always fascinating to me. While I watched, sometimes I’d talk to myself—or whoever was listening—about whatever was on my mind at the time. Somebody had to be listening, and even if there was no one, it felt good to let it all out, whatever “it” actually was. Sometimes I would just watch and listen. I believed we had a special kind of communication.
These days, not much has changed. I still watch the sky, searching for the stars at night as often as possible. Whenever they appear, I’m as awestruck as I ever was. It’s like seeing them again for the first time. I still marvel at the moon and have long conversations with myself. Sometimes, when I find myself off balance and need to get back to center, I’ll go to one of my favorite places outdoors, put my bare feet on the grass, meditate, sing songs, or just listen to the natural sounds—away from the rush of the city and all the noise.
I remember one summer, I convinced a friend of mine to go downtown and sleep outside. I wanted to wake up to the sun rising over the harbor. I don’t know why, I just felt the strong desire to do so. So, we did that and it was amazing. We actually didn’t get to sleep at all. The navy ships were in town and we met a few sailors, rolled up a few stogies, talked about everything from the healing power of hugs, the power of the mind, our connection to the Universe, love, and life in general. I almost became a volunteer navy crew member that night. That’s a different story for a different time.
In all the time I spent watching the stars and studying constellations, once I learned that our bodies contain some of the same atomic nuclei that stars are made of, I was blown away. We’re made of stardust. How amazing is that?