“The amazing thing is that every atom in your body came from a star that exploded. And, the atoms in your left hand probably came from a different star than your right hand. It really is the most poetic thing I know about physics: You are all stardust. You couldn’t be here if stars hadn’t exploded, because the elements – the carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, iron, all the things that matter for evolution – weren’t created at the beginning of time. They were created in the nuclear furnaces of stars, and the only way they could get into your body is if those stars were kind enough to explode. So, forget Jesus. The stars died so that you could be here today.”
- “A Universe From Nothing” by Lawrence Krauss, AAI 2009 (16:50-17:23
My backyard led right onto a golf course, a golf course with the loveliest woods I’ve ever seen in all my days; this bias comes from hundreds of nights spent traipsing about them during my childhood. Many a night I would sneak out, from the ripe age of about 6 until I moved from there at 18, plunk myself down on the velvety grass and star gaze. I felt such a longing, such a desire to just jump as high as I could and touch the stars. To be completely honest, I jumped quite a bit…
When I read the above quote from Mr. Krauss, it suddenly made sense…in some sub-atomic (not sure that’s the right word, but it feels right so let’s roll with it), some primal aspect of the me thats me right now…that the littlest bits of me felt the pull home…that the stars that made up me were reaching out to the grounds they knew, grounds that reached as far as the universe could go and then some…Is it any wonder that humankind has looked up to the stars for guidance? For beauty? For a sign that we aren’t so alone? That home still glimmers, second star to the right and straight on til morning.