When was that last time you stood outside at night and looked at the stars? I did that recently and it struck me that it’s been a very long time since I’ve done that in any mindful way.

I was looking for something, but until it was time to see it I stood in the cold night air. It was crisp, but not uncomfortably cold. During those minutes the neighbourhood was quiet and all I could hear was the hum of the hunkered-down city just beyond the cul-de-sac.

I looked up and saw stars, tiny dots on the black canvas of night. I’ve only ever been able to identify a couple of constellations, but there they were. Reliable. Unchanged.

I was looking for the International Space Station, which, after a few weeks of being visible in the early morning when kids and the call of a cup of tea make it practically impossible to stand outside and look up at the sky, was going to be passing overhead. I get an email alerting me if it will be visible in my area, and that night the time worked. 8 p.m. Ethan was asleep and Rich was upstairs putting Connor to bed. The dog hadn’t made his nightly appearance from his hiding spot in the basement, so I was alone. Just me and the stars.

For a few years I fairly frequently flew back and forth between Victoria and Vancouver, the harbour planes cruising low enough that the ground was always in sight. Being above the world, even just a little, invariably put things in perspective.

I am up here. The world is down there. People are driving and boating and farming. They are living their lives just as they did yesterday and will do again tomorrow.

It always made me feel as though whatever was bugging me was perhaps not such a big deal.

That’s how I feel when I look at the stars. Doesn’t everyone? It’s hard not to feel insignificant in the face of evidence of the universe and time almost beyond measure.

I wasn’t sure if I saw the ISS that night because I wasn’t entirely certain what I was looking for. Maybe I saw it. Maybe my timing was off by mere minutes. But I did see a couple of shooting stars and I took some time to breathe.

Do you ever just stand outside and look up at the stars?

 

P.S. If you aren’t already following along with Col. Chris Hadfield — a proud Canadian — and his life and work aboard the ISS I can’t recommend it enough. He’s there for a five-month period, and the photos he shares are nothing short of incredible. But it’s not just that. He’s knowledgeable, inclusive, poetic. His photo captions reveal a man who is not just a scientist but an artist as well. “The sea playing with the sand,” he says of the image of Pakistan above. He shares their work and the science and engineering behind it, daily life in space, and some personal information as well. You want to feel awe? He doles it out in bucketfuls. I love looking up into space, and I love knowing there’s someone looking back and me and sharing what he sees.

 

I unplugged for 24 hours over the weekend – the first time, I think, I have ever deliberately done that. March 1 was the National Day of Unplugging and when a friend wrote about it I had one of those, “I’m gonna do it!” reactions – hastily proclaimed and later regretted. When Friday evening came and it was time to shut down I was balanced directly on the point of the fencepost, wondering if I really needed to follow through while knowing that I did.

So I did and it was great and now I know why people do this all the time.

We decided Saturday called for an adventure, so we went out to a provincial park not too far from here and wandered through the trails, over bridges and streams and among trees. It was an afternoon with a lot of Instagram potential. I didn’t succumb, though I did take some pictures and posted them later that night.

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately…”

I quoted Thoreau when I posted it because that’s just how I felt. It’s how I feel about a lot of things lately – I want to be deliberate about what I’m doing.

I want to take a picture because I want to frame the moment in my life, not in an edited, filtered Instagram.

I want to listen to Connor in the moment so that he knows I’m listening to him, instead of wondering later if he feels as though I don’t ever really pay attention.

I want to read something because it interests me or because it sparks a thought or because it makes me a better writer.

I took a nature hunt list with us when we went to the park, and we all happily searched for the items. Something rough, it said. Something smooth. Something green. Something you think is beautiful. I wondered what Connor would choose as something he thought was beautiful.

He chose a pine cone.

I spend too much time on Facebook and I’ve been aware of it for a while. I get up to feed Ethan at night and read Facebook. I browse while I eat breakfast. I check my news feed while Connor watches TV during the day.

It’s the thief of my time, inspiration and presence and I needed to quit.

In doing so I’ve rediscovered my love of books and the attention span needed to read them. Because that’s what I’ve decided on for March – I’m going to read. Every day. And not just two paragraphs before my eyelids close at night.

Thanks to a suggestion from Angela on my post looking for ideas for my March focus I’m going to try reading with Connor. Not reading to him, but reading with him. We read to him already – every night before bed. But I’d like to try sitting down next to him while we both read a book we’re interested in. Reading is a good thing to model, and I think he will enjoy the time together too.

So that’s my focus for March – I’m going to unplug from social media a little and plug into life a whole lot more.