I’ve always admired what astronauts do. I’ve always looked up at the sky and pictured them surfing stars, covering distances I could not even fathom, and at times, I envy their vantage point.
But myself? I prefer to stay on the ground. There’s so much to explore here, so much work to be done here. The vastness calls every now and again, but the beckons are whispers from the mountains and echoes from the streets of a distant city. The stars are pretty, but they are not what lights my way. My lights come from people, from the fires they build, the ones in their bellies. I’m drawn, always, to the signs of life evident all around us–the labored breathing of making ends meet, the siren calls of every dream unfulfilled, the sweet, low hums of a soul at peace. They’re so loud, so loud, and they ground me to this earth.
Sometimes, I look up, but my feet keep moving forward.