Reach and Soar in 2024!

“If the wine, the water, which nourishes me grows on the surface of the moon, I will do the best I can to go to the moon for it.”

– Henry David Thoreau, Journal, September 7, 1851, Age 34

When I was a little girl about eight years old, I subscribed to Highlights Magazine filled with fun learning activities. In the back of one issue was an invitation to send in for a certificate entitling you to board one of the first rockets taking people to the moon. This possibility was incredible to me! My Mom, rolling her eyes, graciously paid for and sent in for my certificate. I had my ticket! I was going to the moon someday! I couldn’t wait!

Six years later I was glued to the television with great excitement on July 21, 1969, (GMT) watching the Apollo 11 mission as the first man, Neil Armstrong, walked on the moon. I was only 14 years old, but watching Neil and Buzz Aldrin, the second man to walk the moon’s surface, I knew my time was coming.

Since that first lunar landing, twelve men have walked on the moon. Today, almost 55 years later, the current lunar mission is called Artemis, whose purpose is to ultimately establish a permanent base camp on the moon for human transport to Mars. And to put the first person of color and the first woman on the moon.Me??? Where did I put that certificate?

My favorite monthly evenings are when the full moon appears. Recently, I had an opportunity to kayak in the moonlight on a clear night with my sister, Jan and our friend, Annie. Paddling in the dark was initially unmooring. Familiar surroundings were indistinguishable.

As the moon moved across the sky, she danced in and out of thin wispy clouds, playing a game of hide and seek. Although we watched her glow intensify as she climbed higher in the sky, I was unable to clearly see the water.  Feeling suspended, a sense of instability cloaked me.

To secure myself, I tethered the tip of my little red kayak to the shimmering reflection of the moon on the water by pointing my bow in the path of the moonlight. Instantly, I felt intimately connected to something eternal, yet simultaneously isolated from everything. An acute sense of awareness swept over me as though the gravitational pull of the moon somehow heightened all my senses. When she finally reached her full brightness in the night sky, I was humbled by her beauty and clarity. I think of those who have walked on her surface and 55 years later wonder, where was that certificate???

As I basked in the cascading moonlight and rocked gently in my kayak to the rhythm of the soft waves, I thought how going to the moon represented a universe of possibilities. Expansion and growth. Reaching for goals and aspirations that stretch us. Moving toward something greater than ourselves. Serving a higher purpose.

Henry David Thoreau loved the expansiveness of the moonlight, too. On a late evening walk to Walden Pond, Thoreau observed the moon shimmering on the pond. He wrote, “We do not commonly live our life out and full; We live but a fraction of our life.” Henry, in his musings, recognized we all have more life to live than our “quiet desperation.” We all can “shoot for the moon!”

During my own moonlight kayaking excursion I observed the glistening reflections as I lingered in my kayak. The intermittent flashes of wavy light brought forth the gentle whispers of my inner calling in the dark silence of this night. These soul-filled undertones softly gave voice to my next steps, often nudging me in an unexpected direction, encouraging me to reach higher.

Somewhere deep inside all of us, there are moonbeams shining light on our darkness, illuminating our path forward. Our biggest challenge is to overcome our hesitation and muster the courage to heed their call.

NASA continues to heed its call for space exploration. Since that first lunar landing, we have sent missions to Mars. The Perseverance, which landed on Mars in February of 2021, carried a computer chip to leave on the red planet. We earthlings had the opportunity to submit our names to be included on that chip. Of course you know I sent mine in and digitally received an official “boarding pass.” I bypassed the moon and went to Mars!

Recently, I read that within the next two years, the Artemis mission will be sending astronauts to the South Pole of the moon. They will be landing on a crater named Mons Mouton which stretches for 2700 square miles and has an elevation of approximately 19,000 feet, almost as high as Denali, the highest peak in North America. Mons Mouton is the highest peak in the lunar South Pole.

The Mons Mouton crater is named for Melba Roy Mouton, an African American woman who was the head mathematician of a team of human computers in the late 1950’s for NASA’s Trajectory and Geodynamics Division. She is recognized by NASA for creating calculations that led to the successful Apollo 11 moon landing mission.

This story prompted me to watch a documentary the next day about the Apollo 11 mission. It was amazing to relive that epic 1969 mission now, 55 years later at age 68.  Knowing the technology we have today in 2024 makes the magnitude of their accomplishment even more astonishing. Every maneuver had to be precisely timed and executed with seemingly archaic technological equipment.

The story of Melba and the documentary remind me that opportunities and possibilities in life are as vast as the universe itself. We just need to launch. Melba is gone now and I bet she could never have imagined how valuable her contributions were to the space program. She is an inspiration. In a quiet way. Behind the scenes. Doing her work. Showing up in a profound way every day.

And guess what? On the NASA.gov website you can now receive a boarding pass for the Artemis mission and have your name on a computer chip that will be left on Mons Mouton. Of course, once again, you know I sent mine in! I no longer have to worry about that certificate!

A boarding pass to Mars. Now a boarding pass to the moon. I continually envision propelling myself on a higher flight path. Sometimes I hesitate, but then I remind myself if the trajectory is wrong, I can make a course correction. The lesson is not to sit on my launch pad too long.

I continued to rock gently in my kayak on this moonlit night for a few more minutes and then I untethered my kayak from the moonbeams and peacefully paddled back to shore. My thoughts were soaring to the moon, Mars and beyond!

In his journal, Thoreau wrote, “We believe that the possibility of the future far exceeds the accomplishments of the past.” He would be amazed today.

The Perseverance also carried something else to Mars, a message emblazoned on its parachute proclaiming, “Dare Mighty Things.”

Let us reach and soar to do the same.

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What one thing would you do if you were to reach and soar and dare mighty things?

What is holding you back as you sit on your launch pad?

How will it feel to blast off? Begin your countdown now!