Note: Today is not November 9, but I am writing this edition of The Anxious Morning on November 9, which is Carl Sagan’s birthday. Thank you - you know who you are - for reminding me.
So … here we go.
When I was at my worst and just being dragged around all day long by relentless thoughts about death, dying, and existence, all I wanted was a way to not be afraid of being … and ultimately not being.
But before we get into that, let me take you back to 1980. I was 14 years old. This was pre cellphone, pre-Internet, and pre-EverythingElse. In my house the TV (there was only one) got like 7 channels. One of them was PBS - American public television. On PBS in 1980 was the 13-part video adaptation of Carl Sagan’s “Cosmos”.
Oh. My. God. I’ve always had an interest in science so when I stumbled accidentally onto Cosmos on PBS, I was totally hooked. I loved NOVA - another PBS series - but Cosmos was at a whole other level. I was absolutely riveted by what I was seeing and hearing from Dr. Sagan. He showed me the entirety of the evolution of life on earth in 40 seconds. He taught me about Eratosthenes and how the curvature of the earth was calculated thousands of years before I was born. He revealed just how huge the universe is and how infinitesimally small the era of humans is in the whole history of … well … everything. I remember every last thing I saw and heard on Cosmos in 1980. It was, I think I can say in hindsight, life changing.
The most important thing I learned from Carl Sagan is that I am made of atoms that were created by dying stars. It’s not “like” I am made of old star atoms. I am literally made of old star atoms. So are you. So is your dog and your cat and the tree outside your window. We are all made of “star stuff”. That was so impactful for me to hear in 1980. It remains just as impactful for me now. But it doesn’t stop there. Carl Sagan sat in my TV in my living room and then took “star stuff” to a new level. Even writing this now, 42 years later, I am feeling a bit emotional.
PHOTOGRAPH BY EVELYN HOFER, TIME & LIFE PICTURES, GETTY
Dr. Sagan taught me that since we are made of atoms that were forged in the hearts of dead stars - we are the Cosmos made sentient. He said one line that gives me chills and brings me close to tears whenever I hear it or remember it.
We are a way for the Cosmos to know itself.
I am not here today to give Carl Sagan credit for curing my raging obsession with death and the nature of existence, but when I needed something to hang on to, he gave it to me. Sagan taught me that if nothing else, my job is to simply experience things.
What does it all mean? What is the point if we’re all doomed to die anyway? I will never forget how powerful and soul-shaking those questions and those thoughts were back then. When there is no answer to be had, winding up in a frenzied, terrified state happens again and again.
Did I replace my thoughts with Carl Sagan’s thought? No. It doesn’t work that way. Did I wake up one morning and just decide to not obsess because I knew my purpose and it all made sense? I wish … but no. As I began to accept that all the thinking and searching was not going to help me, I had to start to embrace the fact that I could not answer the questions and the thoughts that were rolling over me all day long. I could not know what death really is or what would happen afterward, I could not stop it from happening. I could not change the fact that I and everyone I love will one day be gone and maybe forgotten. Those are difficult conclusions to accept, especially in an anxious, sensitized, obsessed state.
My job - the one that Carl Sagan gave me in 1980 - became a mark on the floor that I could “hit” when I needed to. Like an actor goes to their mark while filming a scene. When I was unsure, I could at least fall back on the FACT that I was in fact old star atoms able to think about themselves and interact with other old star atoms. It did not bring me instant comfort or relief, but it did help me make space between me and those thoughts.
“I’m thinking again. Really, this is part of my job. I am thinking about the universe that made me because it cannot think about itself without making me first.”
“I will die one day, but until that day I will just do my job. To be. To experience. It’s the least I can do for the stars that worked so hard to make these atoms of mine.”
Silly, minor, thoughts, right? Maybe, but back then they were firm ground for me to stand on while I did my work. They gave me a sense of stability and purpose when I needed them. Back then they were a refuge. Today, they are deeply woven into who I am, what I believe, and what motivates and encourages me every day. Words that changed me at in 1980 helped to save me in 2006. They now inspire and delight me in 2022. Maybe they’ll be of use to you now too.
Amazing how that kind of thing happens if you let it.
Happy birthday Dr. Sagan. Thank you. For more than you’ll ever know.
I normally include one of my favorite quotes at the end of Friday editions, but this edition is literally about one of my favorite quotes, so I’ll just let it stand on its own.
206. "We Are A Way For The Cosmos To Know Itself"