It’s in Our Stars
Today I took down my Harris-Walz sign. I am Heartsick. Alarmed. Demoralized. Threats of massive deportation, deep cuts to our societal safety net, elimination of the Affordable Care Act, not to mention the prospect of the US not just swerving but crashing headlong into a wave of isolationism face our country. Having recently retired, I also worry about cuts to Medicare and Social Security.
Like many of you, I have been devouring writing that offers solace: grieve: but do not become despondent; remember that the world is tilting toward a scary populism, but plan to show up for those whose lives will be profoundly affected, such as migrants and young women; instead of condemning, try to understand why more than half of our neighbors supported a man who tried to overthrow the very country he is now anointed to lead.
Walking through my Detroit area neighborhood last week, I remembered a lesson gleaned from the pandemic. At the time I worked for a health system which treated only the second identified COVID patient in the country. She survived. For weeks, my colleagues and I poured over devastating charts reporting patient admissions and deaths at each hospital. I heard heartbreaking stories from nurses who used I-tablets to help patients say final goodbyes to loved ones because no visitors were allowed. During the darkest of nights, I paced my neighborhood and started looking skyward. I didn’t know what the next months would bring, but the heavens were comfortably predictable. The moon waxed and waned, morphing from a silvery crescent to a Supermoon luminous enough to guide hunters, legend says. Queen Cassiopeia still grasped her scepter, holding court in the September sky. And the Perseids meteor showers continued to dazzle those of us lucky enough to live in an area without light pollution.
There was reason for my solace. Researchers have discovered that looking at the night sky can actually heal, easing depression and anxiety. Stargazing, it would seem, puts our lives and problems in perspective. A brief evening stroll can remind us that, as Carl Sagan observed, we humans are but stardust in this vast and beautiful universe. Once again, we can become awestruck by the sheer vastness and wonder of creation.
Tonight, I saw blue-white Vega blazing in the eastern sky, one of our brightest stars. The half-moon over the rooftops looked like a celestial ying yang. If you live far enough away from cities, you may be able to see Pegasus ride through the night sky this time of year.
Gazing at the moon may not be a panacea for the troubles and suffering that lie ahead, but it soothes this anxious soul. And provides courage for working together to achieve what is right and good and true.