Episode 11: A Tribute to the Earth, and to Us
Music - Clair de Lune, Claude Debussy - Piano by Jessica Roemischer
Subscribe on Apple Podcasts & Stitcher
Subscribe on Apple Podcasts & Stitcher
Now, perhaps you’re finding, as I am, that these days it’s hard to watch the news. There's so much suffering and uncertainty...every day there are tragic events in far-flung places, and right here close to home. In that light, I’d like to share an experience with you because, as I was looking at the front page of an online newspaper the other day, something caught my eye. Amidst everything that’s happening--all the headlines and everything they depicted--a video was posted. I saw it there, and the whole feeling of that video--even just the title, and the image that went with it--was wholly different from everything else. At first, I registered that difference subconsciously, but then, I began to realize the sense I was having, and I felt like I had to step out of, to leave, all the other news, and just focus on this one thing. As if I was stepping into a different reality.
And that video was called, “Earthrise.” (I've posted it below.) Under the title was a photograph. I recognized the photo - it was an image of the earth from space, the earth as it appeared, ascending over the horizon of the moon.
And amidst all the news and headlines, that were causing me anxiety and even hopelessness, when I found that video, I felt immediately drawn to it. I had to watch it. I had to see something that, even before pressing, ‘play,’ I knew would evoke something good and positive and hopeful.
So I watched the video, and as I did, I’d learn that the image was taken in the late 1960’s by the crew of the Apollo 8 spacecraft. The video combined interviews and documentary footage of their historic journey - they were the first astronauts to orbit the moon and the first humans to see the earth from space.
The Apollo 8 astronauts were three men--Frank Borman, Jim Lovell, and William Anders. And in the video, footage of their historic orbit of the moon, was interspersed with contemporary interviews with them. You followed their journeys then, and now. I watched mesmerized.
And when asked what it was like to be the first humans to see the earth from space--a view that no other humans had seen before, one of the astronauts remarked, “They should have sent poets on that space flight." Because, without anticipating it, these astronauts experienced something so overwhelming, so profound, and so new, that they’d be at a loss to describe it.
They saw our earth there, floating in an infinitely vast expanse of blackness, and there, as they careened through space, "The one overwhelming emotion that we carried," they said, "is that we really do all exist on one small globe, and when you get out 240,000 miles from earth, it really isn’t a very large earth. It isn’t a very large earth from out there."
And they marveled at the beauty of the earth and its deep blue color against the blackness of space, there, 240,000 miles in the distance. And how blue planet is teeming with life. It’s teeming with untold billions of creatures, great and small - and it’s teeming with us.
And when asked what struck them most about that experience, the astronauts reflected,
“Everything we held dear was on that planet.”
The next morning, as I have begun to do each day, I walked from my little home out to the headland overlooking the ocean. There, the sea stretches out before me, the sun coming up, the water glistening, shimmering in the early light.
Each morning is different - sometimes puffy clouds blanket the sky, sometimes wispy clouds are scattered here and there, sometimes the sky is an uninterrupted expanse of blue. For that reason, the hue of the water can vary - from velvety grey, to dark green, to light green-blue to sparkling turquoise.
On that headland, that bluff, is my favorite bench, and it’s sitting there on that bench that I’ve been watching the whales, and it's where I go to feel my beloved daddy’s presence, and to talk to God, and to meditate and contemplate. It’s become my beloved and special place.
And as I was watching the ocean, a group of dolphins suddenly caught my eye. They were quite close to the shore--closer than the whales usually come--near where the rocks meet the endless rhythm of the waves, there, down the steep cliff, beneath where I was sitting. So, from high on my bench, I could easily gaze down upon the dolphins as they began to arc out of the water. They seemed so happy and contented, simply doing what is most easeful for them. Jumping up, their lithe, shiny bodies emerging from the water, and then entering again, as they rode the waves. And the waves were big, really big!
And at one point, a huge wave came up, rolling, frothing, poised to break onto the rocks below. And from where I was sitting, I could see into the wave, its translucent blue-green, opening like a glassy window. And as the wave grew and became larger and moved toward the rocks, what I saw there, inside that wave, was a dolphin. The wave was holding the dolphin within it, its force rolling effortlessly, and the dolphin was gliding effortlessly in its mighty current, as if the wave and the dolphin were one.
And I glimpsed that dolphin with a kind of awe, sitting there on my special bench, where the ocean lays out before me, with the horizon, stretching to the left and to the right, unimpeded, as far as the eye can see, I began to contemplate the Earthrise video I'd seen the day before. I was thinking of that historic space journey--fifty years ago--the journey that would reveal our home, our planet to us, glowing and radiantly blue.And I thought about what one of the Apollo astronauts reflected 50 years later, that, "we are just a small piece of an infinite universe...a blue marble in this sea of darkness."
And then I began to consider how that space journey came about--the ingenuity, creativity, resilience, determination, inventiveness and vision that made that journey into space possible--a kind of alchemy of qualities and abilities that so markedly makes us human.
All of that, and more, was necessary to invent a way for people to exit the atmosphere of our earth, to travel almost a quarter of a million miles through space, to orbit the moon, and then return, re-entering the earth’s atmosphere--a challenge of enormous magnitude and precariousness--coming back to our home, this place, this planet, and to live through it all, to tell and show everyone, through their photographic images, what they saw.
Surely, I thought, if we could collectively harness those abilities, on this earth now, we could alter our future.
So, I was contemplating all this as I sat watching the sea before me, and at that moment, whales began breaching in the distance, their noses emerging up and out of the water, whoosh! Their splashing down with big belly-flops, except on their backs - and those huge fins, arcing up and out, then back, moving, submerged, moving along, as they continued on their journey, carving a path south, through the great ocean.
What makes the whales breach, I then asked myself? Why do they seem to love to do that? I didn't know.
Remarkably, at that moment, a man entered the little area near my bench--and I thought to ask him, if he knew why the whales breach. And,much to my delight, he was friendly and in fact, he did! Well, he said, as a matter of fact, I was wondering that myself recently, and so I researched it. And I discovered that it’s their way of communicating. They’re communicating in this extraordinary breaching they do. In the flapping and turning around and jumping out of the water. I thanked him, and with that, he bid me good day, and continued on his walk.
I marveled that the answer had come to me--just like that--with that man’s presence. And then I thought about the whales, perhaps that’s why we so love to be near them. They’re communicating in this grand way. In their playful jumping and breaching, they’re communicating--and that made it even more meaningful to see them. At that moment, a whale-watching boat came near by to the whales and hovered in the vicinity of these great creatures, with many people standing on the deck, cameras and phones in hand, marveling, too.
And I thought, we are so linked to these sea creatures of the earth. The fact is that these are sea mammals. Like us, they are warm blooded. They have lungs like we do. They are drawn to and depend on the open air, to join with it as they emerge with each breath, from the depths. The need the air, as do we! And, the mamma whale provides milk for her young, like human mommy’s do, too!
Maybe that’s why we’re so drawn to the whales--that, and their majesty, their majestic presence.
Like so many others, I’m struck with what’s happening on this earth, with the realities that are unfolding in the environment of our blue planet, with what the scientists are now telling us. It’s possible that we won’t be here indefinitely - our ongoing presence here is not guaranteed. But, there’s something about us humans, where we are going, who we are...And that’s where my dearest Dad comes in, with what he’s revealing to me and helping me to sense and understand.
Because since his passing, just two and a half weeks ago, in his coming to me, in the feeling of his presence, so close and near, he’s showing me that there is an eternal part of us, something that’s not reserved for the after-life, something that can be felt and sensed here and now, here on this earth. (I recounted this in Episode 9 and 10)
To feel my dad’s presence now, in the wake of his passing - to feel him, like there’s a transparency between us - to feel this incredible love and to sense the nature of who he truly is, and really always has been in my life, from the very, very beginning, that experience of what my beloved daddy is giving me is the greatest gift I can imagine.
He is bringing to me a sense of that which is eternal, which is unspeakably beautiful and good. The essence of who each one of us is, in truly. My daddy is showing me that. I could never have imagined or anticipated it.
So, there on my bench, I prayed to my dad and to God, to ask them, what is my future, what is our future…
And what came was this vision...of being held in a translucent, blue-green bubble, held here on this beautiful “blue marble,” as the astronauts called it, this beautiful blue orb---Earth.
And as I prayed, what came, too, was a vision of the essence of who each of us is. And it was a vision of how it can be protected and nurtured--that essential quality. An unspeakably delicate innocence--and love. That’s what came to me. That, and a feeling for the precious earth upon which we exist, this earth that carries and sustains us and the myriad creatures, great and small, who abound here, who live together with us in an infinitely interconnected web of life.
So, as I watched the dolphins, I thought of a poem I’d written many years ago - when I was just 14, a time when innocence and uncertainty and longing melded together, there, under the surface of my youthful days. I’d recalled this poem, shortly after my father passed, when I was feeling him close and near, as I still do. And I recited it in my earlier podcast, "A Eulogy for My Dad."
And now, watching the dolphin carried in the blue-green transparency of that wave, I recalled again the image that I’d conjured all those years ago, in that poem called, “The Sea.”
"Down in the depths...
Glowing in the emerald sea-light,
The carbonations sweep 'round me
Traveling as one.
Only that I may live in their caressing whirlpools...
As I do, my thoughts bounce among the playful bubbles.
I wish to touch every one,
To hold each illuminated globe.
But still, I must seek finality in one single, special sphere.
And with it, sanctuary from the searching, swirling currents.
Enclosing it, finding the warmth of its rainbow radiance.
I add my glow to the illumination.
I enclose it, and become enclosed,
And with the tiny pocket of sea breeze,
Rise steadily to the surface."
That was the poem, or part of it, and reading it now, I think I longed to be carried in a glowing bubble--
a tiny pocket of air, of sea breeze, rising to the surface--like we're carried on this beautiful earth.
And I thought, what would it be like for all of us to see ourselves as we did fifty years ago, when for just that one moment, the entirety of humanity glimpsed our home, Planet Earth for the first time, as the images from that historic space flight were transmitted around the world. That would be something!
"We have to see ourselves as riders on the earth together," the Apollo 8 crew said. "We are all astronauts."
And as I was contemplating all this, I thought to myself, we are held - held in the floating atmosphere of our planet.
We’re carried on this earth…this beautiful earth, this rolling blue planet.
We are all being carried, just like the dolphin this morning, carried in the blue-green waves.
And that video was called, “Earthrise.” (I've posted it below.) Under the title was a photograph. I recognized the photo - it was an image of the earth from space, the earth as it appeared, ascending over the horizon of the moon.
And amidst all the news and headlines, that were causing me anxiety and even hopelessness, when I found that video, I felt immediately drawn to it. I had to watch it. I had to see something that, even before pressing, ‘play,’ I knew would evoke something good and positive and hopeful.
So I watched the video, and as I did, I’d learn that the image was taken in the late 1960’s by the crew of the Apollo 8 spacecraft. The video combined interviews and documentary footage of their historic journey - they were the first astronauts to orbit the moon and the first humans to see the earth from space.
The Apollo 8 astronauts were three men--Frank Borman, Jim Lovell, and William Anders. And in the video, footage of their historic orbit of the moon, was interspersed with contemporary interviews with them. You followed their journeys then, and now. I watched mesmerized.
And when asked what it was like to be the first humans to see the earth from space--a view that no other humans had seen before, one of the astronauts remarked, “They should have sent poets on that space flight." Because, without anticipating it, these astronauts experienced something so overwhelming, so profound, and so new, that they’d be at a loss to describe it.
They saw our earth there, floating in an infinitely vast expanse of blackness, and there, as they careened through space, "The one overwhelming emotion that we carried," they said, "is that we really do all exist on one small globe, and when you get out 240,000 miles from earth, it really isn’t a very large earth. It isn’t a very large earth from out there."
And they marveled at the beauty of the earth and its deep blue color against the blackness of space, there, 240,000 miles in the distance. And how blue planet is teeming with life. It’s teeming with untold billions of creatures, great and small - and it’s teeming with us.
And when asked what struck them most about that experience, the astronauts reflected,
“Everything we held dear was on that planet.”
The next morning, as I have begun to do each day, I walked from my little home out to the headland overlooking the ocean. There, the sea stretches out before me, the sun coming up, the water glistening, shimmering in the early light.
Each morning is different - sometimes puffy clouds blanket the sky, sometimes wispy clouds are scattered here and there, sometimes the sky is an uninterrupted expanse of blue. For that reason, the hue of the water can vary - from velvety grey, to dark green, to light green-blue to sparkling turquoise.
On that headland, that bluff, is my favorite bench, and it’s sitting there on that bench that I’ve been watching the whales, and it's where I go to feel my beloved daddy’s presence, and to talk to God, and to meditate and contemplate. It’s become my beloved and special place.
And as I was watching the ocean, a group of dolphins suddenly caught my eye. They were quite close to the shore--closer than the whales usually come--near where the rocks meet the endless rhythm of the waves, there, down the steep cliff, beneath where I was sitting. So, from high on my bench, I could easily gaze down upon the dolphins as they began to arc out of the water. They seemed so happy and contented, simply doing what is most easeful for them. Jumping up, their lithe, shiny bodies emerging from the water, and then entering again, as they rode the waves. And the waves were big, really big!
And at one point, a huge wave came up, rolling, frothing, poised to break onto the rocks below. And from where I was sitting, I could see into the wave, its translucent blue-green, opening like a glassy window. And as the wave grew and became larger and moved toward the rocks, what I saw there, inside that wave, was a dolphin. The wave was holding the dolphin within it, its force rolling effortlessly, and the dolphin was gliding effortlessly in its mighty current, as if the wave and the dolphin were one.
And I glimpsed that dolphin with a kind of awe, sitting there on my special bench, where the ocean lays out before me, with the horizon, stretching to the left and to the right, unimpeded, as far as the eye can see, I began to contemplate the Earthrise video I'd seen the day before. I was thinking of that historic space journey--fifty years ago--the journey that would reveal our home, our planet to us, glowing and radiantly blue.And I thought about what one of the Apollo astronauts reflected 50 years later, that, "we are just a small piece of an infinite universe...a blue marble in this sea of darkness."
And then I began to consider how that space journey came about--the ingenuity, creativity, resilience, determination, inventiveness and vision that made that journey into space possible--a kind of alchemy of qualities and abilities that so markedly makes us human.
All of that, and more, was necessary to invent a way for people to exit the atmosphere of our earth, to travel almost a quarter of a million miles through space, to orbit the moon, and then return, re-entering the earth’s atmosphere--a challenge of enormous magnitude and precariousness--coming back to our home, this place, this planet, and to live through it all, to tell and show everyone, through their photographic images, what they saw.
Surely, I thought, if we could collectively harness those abilities, on this earth now, we could alter our future.
So, I was contemplating all this as I sat watching the sea before me, and at that moment, whales began breaching in the distance, their noses emerging up and out of the water, whoosh! Their splashing down with big belly-flops, except on their backs - and those huge fins, arcing up and out, then back, moving, submerged, moving along, as they continued on their journey, carving a path south, through the great ocean.
What makes the whales breach, I then asked myself? Why do they seem to love to do that? I didn't know.
Remarkably, at that moment, a man entered the little area near my bench--and I thought to ask him, if he knew why the whales breach. And,much to my delight, he was friendly and in fact, he did! Well, he said, as a matter of fact, I was wondering that myself recently, and so I researched it. And I discovered that it’s their way of communicating. They’re communicating in this extraordinary breaching they do. In the flapping and turning around and jumping out of the water. I thanked him, and with that, he bid me good day, and continued on his walk.
I marveled that the answer had come to me--just like that--with that man’s presence. And then I thought about the whales, perhaps that’s why we so love to be near them. They’re communicating in this grand way. In their playful jumping and breaching, they’re communicating--and that made it even more meaningful to see them. At that moment, a whale-watching boat came near by to the whales and hovered in the vicinity of these great creatures, with many people standing on the deck, cameras and phones in hand, marveling, too.
And I thought, we are so linked to these sea creatures of the earth. The fact is that these are sea mammals. Like us, they are warm blooded. They have lungs like we do. They are drawn to and depend on the open air, to join with it as they emerge with each breath, from the depths. The need the air, as do we! And, the mamma whale provides milk for her young, like human mommy’s do, too!
Maybe that’s why we’re so drawn to the whales--that, and their majesty, their majestic presence.
Like so many others, I’m struck with what’s happening on this earth, with the realities that are unfolding in the environment of our blue planet, with what the scientists are now telling us. It’s possible that we won’t be here indefinitely - our ongoing presence here is not guaranteed. But, there’s something about us humans, where we are going, who we are...And that’s where my dearest Dad comes in, with what he’s revealing to me and helping me to sense and understand.
Because since his passing, just two and a half weeks ago, in his coming to me, in the feeling of his presence, so close and near, he’s showing me that there is an eternal part of us, something that’s not reserved for the after-life, something that can be felt and sensed here and now, here on this earth. (I recounted this in Episode 9 and 10)
To feel my dad’s presence now, in the wake of his passing - to feel him, like there’s a transparency between us - to feel this incredible love and to sense the nature of who he truly is, and really always has been in my life, from the very, very beginning, that experience of what my beloved daddy is giving me is the greatest gift I can imagine.
He is bringing to me a sense of that which is eternal, which is unspeakably beautiful and good. The essence of who each one of us is, in truly. My daddy is showing me that. I could never have imagined or anticipated it.
So, there on my bench, I prayed to my dad and to God, to ask them, what is my future, what is our future…
And what came was this vision...of being held in a translucent, blue-green bubble, held here on this beautiful “blue marble,” as the astronauts called it, this beautiful blue orb---Earth.
And as I prayed, what came, too, was a vision of the essence of who each of us is. And it was a vision of how it can be protected and nurtured--that essential quality. An unspeakably delicate innocence--and love. That’s what came to me. That, and a feeling for the precious earth upon which we exist, this earth that carries and sustains us and the myriad creatures, great and small, who abound here, who live together with us in an infinitely interconnected web of life.
So, as I watched the dolphins, I thought of a poem I’d written many years ago - when I was just 14, a time when innocence and uncertainty and longing melded together, there, under the surface of my youthful days. I’d recalled this poem, shortly after my father passed, when I was feeling him close and near, as I still do. And I recited it in my earlier podcast, "A Eulogy for My Dad."
And now, watching the dolphin carried in the blue-green transparency of that wave, I recalled again the image that I’d conjured all those years ago, in that poem called, “The Sea.”
"Down in the depths...
Glowing in the emerald sea-light,
The carbonations sweep 'round me
Traveling as one.
Only that I may live in their caressing whirlpools...
As I do, my thoughts bounce among the playful bubbles.
I wish to touch every one,
To hold each illuminated globe.
But still, I must seek finality in one single, special sphere.
And with it, sanctuary from the searching, swirling currents.
Enclosing it, finding the warmth of its rainbow radiance.
I add my glow to the illumination.
I enclose it, and become enclosed,
And with the tiny pocket of sea breeze,
Rise steadily to the surface."
That was the poem, or part of it, and reading it now, I think I longed to be carried in a glowing bubble--
a tiny pocket of air, of sea breeze, rising to the surface--like we're carried on this beautiful earth.
And I thought, what would it be like for all of us to see ourselves as we did fifty years ago, when for just that one moment, the entirety of humanity glimpsed our home, Planet Earth for the first time, as the images from that historic space flight were transmitted around the world. That would be something!
"We have to see ourselves as riders on the earth together," the Apollo 8 crew said. "We are all astronauts."
And as I was contemplating all this, I thought to myself, we are held - held in the floating atmosphere of our planet.
We’re carried on this earth…this beautiful earth, this rolling blue planet.
We are all being carried, just like the dolphin this morning, carried in the blue-green waves.