Feeling Tiny in the Cosmos?
A Solar Eclipse, Star Power, and Other Shining Moments
Cosmic Insignificance?
Seven years ago, on the lawn at the University of Notre Dame, the three of us—my husband with his arm in a sling, my daughter who was about to start college, and myself—watched the sun almost disappear behind the moon. It was pretty cool.
Afterward, I stashed our certified eclipse glasses away in my desk drawer. After all, we would need them again in seven years. At the time, April 8, 2024, seemed like a far-off, futuristic date.
And yet, here we are. Have seven years passed already?
The continuing nerve pain in my husband’s elbow—crushed in a bicycle accident just days before the 2017 eclipse—is a reminder that while some things get better, others might stay the same. Our daughter, over the past seven years, graduated from college, worked for a year at our local library, and is about to receive her master’s degree in library and information studies; a reminder that a lot can happen in seven years.
Things get better. Things get worse. In seven years, many things can change. Despite global pandemics, wars and rumors of war, contentious elections, devastating earthquakes, hurricanes, and wildfires…our planet keeps spinning and circling and predictably falling in line with its moon and the sun at exactly the moment it's supposed to. I find that pretty miraculous!
Here’s another astonishing tidbit: The earth is moving around the sun at 67,000 miles per hour (I’m not kidding!), yet the eclipse will last 3.5 to 4.5 minutes in the path of totality. My little mind can’t fathom how far away the sun must be from the earth for both those facts to be true.
As teeny-tiny human beings on a teeny-tiny planet—relative to the scope and size of the universe—how are we to reconcile our feelings of “cosmic insignificance”?1
“Our daily decisions are making our lives.”
(A quote from Emily P. Freeman’s podcast, The Next Right Thing.)
Even so, sometimes I act like the weight of the world depends on my daily, mundane decisions.
I stand in the grocery aisle, comparing nutrition labels, quantity, and price of yogurt and granola. I try on every style of jeans to see which fits my ever-changing body in the most flattering way. I analyze paint colors, flooring samples, and fabric swatches when remodeling. (Just kidding. I don’t trust my decorating judgment at. all. I hire a decorator instead. She’s worth her weight in gold!)
I suffer from analysis paralysis.
When comparing Airbnb’s, appliances, and anything I order online, I always check the ratings and read the reviews. In the face of an endless array of choices for everything from cereal to stick-vacs, reviews and stars are the cure to my analysis paralysis.
Seeing Stars
Star ratings and reviews also help me choose books and podcasts. It was through a recommendation that I found No Small Endeavor (Exploring What it Means to Live a Good Life) with Lee C. Camp, now one of my favorite podcasts. He recently interviewed Dacher Keltner on “How Awe Will Transform Your Life.” If you’re looking for a podcast that nicely complements the solar eclipse, I highly recommend!
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Along those lines, I give five stars to John Green’s The Anthropocene Reviewed: Essays on a Human-Centered Planet. I listened to the audiobook, and the awe, wonder, and humanity of several essays brought me to tears.
Having authored my first book, I’m now on the receiving end of those ratings and reviews. My little devotional is one teeny-tiny book in a vast array of millions. Talk about cosmic insignificance! Why would a reader choose my book from the immense book universe?
Just like the stars in the galaxy, those simple star ratings on Amazon and Goodreads can make a book shine. So—and maybe you saw this coming—I need your reviews! If you read Lent through the Little Things, could you take two minutes to leave a rating or review on Amazon, Goodreads, Barnes & Noble, Bookshop, or wherever you buy and track your books? (If you already did this, thank you so much!)
Support an independent author today. Your stars could make a book shine!
Shining Significance
And speaking of things that shine…after the bright sun is dimmed by the moon, we’ll move on to that One Shining Moment2 when March Madness comes to an end.
My husband and I met at Purdue when I was studying for my master’s degree and he was getting his second bachelor’s. Monday night, our very own Purdue Boilermakers will be vying for the men’s NCAA championship against UConn. They haven’t played in the final game since I was seven years old. They’ve never won it. We’re thrilled that they’ve made it this far, and would be over the moon if they win!
Watching the women’s and men’s games, with players like Caitlin Clark and Zach Edey, reminds me that even teeny-tiny (and tall!) humans on a teeny-tiny planet can be bright shining stars!
If we give our best in using our God-given gifts, the light we bring to our little spot on the planet will be significant. And when our point of light joins with a million-billion other points of light, together we can make this planet a better and brighter place for all.
The Power and Awe of the Cosmos from Stanford News.
From Wikapedia: "One Shining Moment" is a song written by David Barrett that has become closely associated with the NCAA Division I men's basketball tournament. "One Shining Moment" is traditionally played at the end of CBS's and TBS's coverage of the championship game of the tournament. The song is played as the winning team's players cut down the nets to a montage of highlights from the tournament.
Enjoyed this, Linda! Love the photo from 7 years ago.