Maybe that's what life is....a wink of the eye and winking stars. -- Jack Kerouac
We had the privilege of spending time in Jackson, Wyoming, this summer. Our lodging, a remote ranch, with a balcony out of the back; featured mesmerizing views by day and night. Under the sun, the Tetons were majestic and snow-capped, jutting dramatically from the swells of sage brush. But the most memorable part of the trip, for me, was the Wyoming night sky.
The Tetons' black silhouette scissored the bottom of a breath-taking curtain of stars. This charcoal veil glittered with flecks of white, yellow, red, pink, and blue light. Swirls and broader bands of these dazzling pin pricks swept my eyes across the open space. I could scarcely take in the contrast between the diluted glory of our major metropolitan-area night skies at home, and this revelation.
If light pollution had prevented me from perceiving this many magnitudes of stars, what else was I missing? What tainted vision, which contamination of thought, kept me from the glory of Truth? The beauty of Love, on a daily basis? My own ego is like the power grid leaking into the night, manufactured day light muting a presence far greater than itself. But step away from those puny human bounds, and the universe opens up to reveal eternity.
When I consider that my body--this vessel riding through this same space as the stars, this amazing machine that carries consciousness of such wonders--was wrought from alike elements, I am amazed. This is a reality far beyond my comprehension, a beautiful gift beyond words. All I can do is pray with thanksgiving for continued eyes to see, ears to hear, and lips to speak the blessings of being.
The Tetons' black silhouette scissored the bottom of a breath-taking curtain of stars. This charcoal veil glittered with flecks of white, yellow, red, pink, and blue light. Swirls and broader bands of these dazzling pin pricks swept my eyes across the open space. I could scarcely take in the contrast between the diluted glory of our major metropolitan-area night skies at home, and this revelation.
If light pollution had prevented me from perceiving this many magnitudes of stars, what else was I missing? What tainted vision, which contamination of thought, kept me from the glory of Truth? The beauty of Love, on a daily basis? My own ego is like the power grid leaking into the night, manufactured day light muting a presence far greater than itself. But step away from those puny human bounds, and the universe opens up to reveal eternity.
When I consider that my body--this vessel riding through this same space as the stars, this amazing machine that carries consciousness of such wonders--was wrought from alike elements, I am amazed. This is a reality far beyond my comprehension, a beautiful gift beyond words. All I can do is pray with thanksgiving for continued eyes to see, ears to hear, and lips to speak the blessings of being.
The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day. -- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Starry, Starry Night; by Vincent Van Gogh