When Stars Stare Back
Every night when I stare into the dark sky and catch the twinkle of a star, I can’t help but wonder about the journey the marvellous light took to reach my eyes.
I think about lightyears and the amount of determination and effort it takes to shine across thousands of years, space, dimension, and atmosphere.
I think about how a star’s purpose and identity is so abundantly clear, and think about how its brilliance is manifested by its choice to shine. No matter where they are in the universe, whether they’re near or far from another star, and regardless if anyone bothers to notice them, every moment of a star’s life is spent shining to its fullest extent. I like to think it’s the star’s choice to be completely committed to only existing in its fullest state of being.
I consider that fleeting moment of connection between myself and that star. I can’t help but be completely captivated, full of curiosity and bewilderment at all the brilliance I’m witnessing. At the same time, I know that eventually, my attention and our connection will break. The moment will be over, and I’ll turn my attention to something else. But even knowing that may be so, there is a beauty in trusting that the star will continue to shine just as brightly as it did when it had my full attention. It makes the moment more sweet and the fear of disconnection less painful.
There is deep peace in knowing the star is unashamed of its own beauty and perfection. I find further peace in knowing it is unaffected by my lack of attention and predisposition to distraction. Its self-respect, breeds my respect, and in turn, the respect breeds a trust that overcomes any challenges. I know it is equally brilliant during the day when the stars are not visible, and just the same on cloudy nights. There is an assurance that no matter what, the star will continue to be no less brilliant than it was when I first laid eyes on it, on the darkest and clearest night.
What a peaceful existence it must be when neither admirer or circumstance can determine one’s level of beauty or perfection. It becomes all the more important then, for admirers take the necessary time to intentionally gaze skywards. Because without the act of looking, the gift of perfect, brilliant light will never be received– and the only person missing out will be the admirer.
When I sit quietly and stare for long enough, I begin to feel the stars stare back. I don’t just see flickers of light in the darkness, I see an entire sky filled with commitment to only living according to the highest degree of possibility. The moment becomes both an invitation and a demand that I find it within myself to live out my own brilliance. Like a chorus of soothing light, they point to a peace that is available for each of us when we become fully content in honouring our highest states of being. They show the power of an unwavering commitment to greatness, brightness, and beauty. It’s confronting, terrifying, inspiring, and liberating all at the same time.
Every night, when darkness falls, my instinct is to reach for some external replacement light source. But when I’m finally willing to go outside and embrace the darkness, when I turn my face towards the blackened sky, twinkles of hope remind me that all of life is simply choice. When we choose to seek the fullest extent of our brilliance and ignore the circumstances, distance we need to travel, effort we need to put in, amount of attention we receive, or lack thereof, we become the light our world needs. And that is enough.
