Last night, I was lying on my driveway, stargazing. I thought how incredible it was to be breathing the air of the only known atmosphere on the only known ball of rock that can sustain life in the known universe (stressing the word known). How fortunate we are to be traveling on this particular ball of rock at who-knows-how-many miles-per-hour through through who-knows-where in the great never-ending vacuum. And when thinking about traveling through space, it’s only natural to think about traveling through time.
Perhaps inversely proportional to the vastness of the universe is our ability to comprehend the universe. Our mortal lives are like sparks from a campfire, here for a moment, then gone forever. It would be such a shame to waste such precious moments.
I wondered if a common problem the citizens of this planet often fall into isn’t an incomplete version of the philosophy of Socrates, to begin with “I know nothing,” but then to stop there. That is, to cling to the mantra of “I know nothing” throughout our lives, when it comes to the subject of our place in the universe and the great beyond, perhaps we’ll discover, when our lives are at an en, that we’ll die still having learned nothing. I felt as if we don’t have time to go back to the drawing board and reinvent the purpose of life, one day at a time, because life itself is so fleeting, we’ll inevitably miss that very purpose in the process.
If you’re unsure of what the purpose is, I suggest looking to the stars. They have a great deal to tell. For as Joseph Smith affirmed, “Could you gaze into heaven five minutes, you would know more than you would by reading all that ever was written on the subject” (TPJS, p. 324; cf. HC 6:50).
The good news is, you can!