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If only we could imagine something inspired and build a bridge back from that something else to today, the only place where we can do anything.

I fear for my children and grandchildren, and for my abiding anger at so many people who prefer the ignorance of isolation over the wisdom of history and being informed.  This article is my attempt to imagine something else.

~ ~ ~

I’ve had an intimate relationship with space since July 1969.  Sometime after 3 am, lying in bed in a Newcastle hotel, in the north of England, the room was cold, and the black and white television screen was small.  Never-the-less, the next hour was a rush of sensation, unbelievable energy expansion, impelled into a science fiction movie, but real, hundreds of thousands of miles away in space.  Would the “Eagle,” the small spaceship, actually land on the moon?  If it did land, what would they find?  Where was space anyway and what was it, really?

Then, watching Astronauts Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin walking on the moon opened a door for me — a portal to a universe of wonder, awe, and possibility without explanation.  My life on Earth was suddenly part of a greater whole without boundaries.  I fell in love.

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