My Sentiments Exactly - Every Time I'm On An Airplane Even After Decades of Flying - Being A Million(s) Mile Flyer. "Humans are 'insignificant'!

 

Humans are 'insignificant'! 

 

William Shatner & Jeff Bezos

 

"I looked down and I could see the hole that our spaceship had punched in the thin, blue-tinged layer of oxygen around Earth. It was as if there was a wake trailing behind where we had just been, and just as soon as I’d noticed it, it disappeared.

I continued my self-guided tour and turned my head to face the other direction, to stare into space. I love the mystery of the universe. I love all the questions that have come to us over thousands of years of exploration and hypotheses. Stars exploding years ago, their light traveling to us years later; black holes absorbing energy; satellites showing us entire galaxies in areas thought to be devoid of matter entirely… all of that has thrilled me for years… but when I looked in the opposite direction, into space, there was no mystery, no majestic awe to behold . . . all I saw was death.

I saw a cold, dark, black emptiness. It was unlike any blackness you can see or feel on Earth. It was deep, enveloping, all-encompassing. I turned back toward the light of home. I could see the curvature of Earth, the beige of the desert, the white of the clouds and the blue of the sky. It was life. Nurturing, sustaining, life. Mother Earth. Gaia. And I was leaving her.

Everything I had thought was wrong. Everything I had expected to see was wrong.

I had thought that going into space would be the ultimate catharsis of that connection I had been looking for between all living things—that being up there would be the next beautiful step to understanding the harmony of the universe. In the film “Contact,” when Jodie Foster’s character goes to space and looks out into the heavens, she lets out an astonished whisper, “They should’ve sent a poet.” I had a different experience, because I discovered that the beauty isn’t out there, it’s down here, with all of us. Leaving that behind made my connection to our tiny planet even more profound.

It was among the strongest feelings of grief I have ever encountered. The contrast between the vicious coldness of space and the warm nurturing of Earth below filled me with overwhelming sadness. Every day, we are confronted with the knowledge of further destruction of Earth at our hands: the extinction of animal species, of flora and fauna . . . things that took five billion years to evolve, and suddenly we will never see them again because of the interference of mankind. It filled me with dread. My trip to space was supposed to be a celebration; instead, it felt like a funeral.

I learned later that I was not alone in this feeling. It is called the “Overview Effect” and is not uncommon among astronauts, including Yuri Gagarin, Michael Collins, Sally Ride, and many others. Essentially, when someone travels to space and views Earth from orbit, a sense of the planet’s fragility takes hold in an ineffable, instinctive manner. Author Frank White first coined the term in 1987: “There are no borders or boundaries on our planet except those that we create in our minds or through human behaviors. All the ideas and concepts that divide us when we are on the surface begin to fade from orbit and the moon. The result is a shift in worldview, and in identity.”

It can change the way we look at the planet but also other things like countries, ethnicities, religions; it can prompt an instant reevaluation of our shared harmony and a shift in focus to all the wonderful things we have in common instead of what makes us different. It reinforced tenfold my own view on the power of our beautiful, mysterious collective human entanglement, and eventually, it returned a feeling of hope to my heart. In this insignificance we share, we have one gift that other species perhaps do not: we are aware—not only of our insignificance, but the grandeur around us that makes us insignificant. 

That allows us perhaps a chance to rededicate ourselves to our planet, to each other, to life and love all around us. If we seize that chance."

William Shatner had an epiphany about how "insignificant" human beings really are when he travelled into space.

The 90-year-old actor – who is best known for his role as Captain James T. Kirk in the 'Star Trek' TV series and movies - became the oldest person to go up into space when he blasted off on Jeff Bezos' New Shepard NS-18 rocket alongside Audrey Powers, Blue Origin's Vice President of Mission and Flight Operation, and crew members Chris Boshuizen and Glen de Vries back in October.

The crew made it up to an altitude of around 66 miles on the suborbital flight and felt weightlessness due to a lack of gravity before heading back down to Earth after approximately 10 minutes thanks to three parachutes which aided the capsule's descent back to land.

Shatner admits seeing the entire planet from space made had a profound effect on him and made him realise the futile nature of humanity 's existence.

Appearing on UK TV show 'Loose Women', he said: "I saw the vague white blue of Earth, the nurturing Earth, the life of Earth, then I saw the circumference of Earth.

“You get to see the beginning and the end of the Earth and how small and insignificant it is and we live on an insignificant pile of rock.

“We are insignificant."

https://variety.com/2022/tv/news/william-shatner-space-boldly-go-excerpt-1235395113/

https://uk.style.yahoo.com/humans-insignificant-star-treks-william-150000407.html