Stardust and systemic change.

A solstice reflection on Juneteenth and the infinite

“The nitrogen in our DNA, the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood, the carbon in our apple pies were made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of starstuff.”

-Carl Sagan

Photo by Casey Horner on Unsplash

I’ve been listening to a podcast episode about infinity where astrophysicist, Michelle Thaller shares her experience of losing her husband to a rare form of brain cancer. In the interview, she explains that because space and time are one, and because all moments in time exist simultaneously, her and her husband will always be together. She describes how at the beginning of time, they were there, holding hands, and that when the universe ends, they will still be there, holding hands. Thaller doesn’t have the belief that she will meet her husband in the afterlife, rather that the time they had together has existed and will continue to exist for eternity. I’ve listened to this episode twice and I’ve cried in public both times.

In another podcast episode that I listened to this week, neuropsychologist, Rick Hanson suggested that when it comes to impermanence, rather than considering every passing moment as a loss, we focus on what we might gain with the next. He also spoke about how the expanding universe propels time forward, and suggested that one way to deal with this is by trusting in what’s coming next, and by embracing a sense of awe for the universe and the continuous, moment-by-moment creation of time.

I love this perspective and personally find comfort in it. But I’m writing this post on Juneteenth, and as I reflect on that, I think about the intergenerational trauma and systemic racism experienced by the descendants of enslaved people in the United States and how contemplating the cool expanding universe might not cut it.

I think about the people and families being targeted by the current U.S. administration. I think about the ongoing genocide in Palestine. I think about the devastation wrought by colonialism and how deeply broken our systems are. Trusting in the universe miiiiiight help, but what would help more is if we dismantled capitalism, white supremacy, and all the rest of the fuckery that sustains injustice everywhere.

It’s hard to live with the weight of the present moment, with its cruelty and chaos. It’s even harder to face the possibility that we may have already compromised our collective future by the way we’ve treated the Earth.

We are so very small in comparison to infinity… and yet, here we are. In this very moment. With each other. And that feels enormous. Each of us is made from the atoms of stars that died billions of years ago. Each of us is inextricably linked. And that means we are responsible for one another’s freedom.

So, on this solstice, I look into my baby’s delicious eyes and hold this moment as infinite. I also imagine her as an old woman, living in a time where I no longer exist in this form. I watch the hydrangeas, lilies, and echinacea bloom, remembering how just months ago, daffodils pushed up from the cold ground.

This moment is painful for many. And yet, the next moment carries the possibility of something new. We are powerful when we work together. We can change the world when our capacity to love and care expands beyond our fear of impermanence. So let’s do that.

I, therefore, offer the intention of change. And obvs love and care.

Happy solstice, dear friends.

And be the change… or however that fake Gandhi quote goes…

But, really.

A solstice ritual suggestion: