Cosmic Reflections

Here, I don’t intend to overwhelm anyone with scientific jargon or exhaustive research. I just want to share my feelings and thoughts. But if you’d like to talk or discuss anything I write here, I’m always around.

There are nearly 8 billion people living on this planet, right? I don’t think we need to count them individually. Among all these people, how many do you think you’ve interacted with so far? Let’s throw out a modest number, say “1,000.” Research suggests an average person might meet around 10,000 people throughout their lifetime. What happens after reincarnation, I have no idea.

One thousand people. Now think: How many among these individuals truly realize they are living on a planet orbiting a star, suspended in the endless void of space? I’m talking about genuine awareness here, not just knowing the word “planet” from school lessons. How many of us consciously perceive that we spend our lives spinning through space on a rock circling a star?

In my life, this number might be just one or two, no more than that. I once spent considerable time discussing this topic with various people. We’re all essentially stardust.

For instance, people often talk about love as an intensified form of affection or discuss soulmates as deep, inexplicable connections. My personal theory is something like this: Once upon a time, we were all scattered particles of stardust drifting through infinite space. Over time, stars collided and exploded, creating smaller stars and scattering their particles across space. These particles eventually mingled with emerging microorganisms on newly formed planets, giving rise to life as we know it. Over billions of years, this stardust evolved into humans and all other life forms.

When stardust from distant galaxies or neighboring stars encounters particles originating from nearby regions of the same star or closely neighboring stars, a lingering connection forms. Humans interpret these profound, cosmic connections as soulmates.

Some might find this idea amusing, but wouldn’t it make for a captivating sci-fi scenario? I’m considering writing something based on this concept. I’ve always carried this theory in my heart. After all, love or deep connections are far too profound to be confined merely to Earth, they deserve to encompass more stars and stardust.

Now, let’s talk briefly about the Cosmos. What exactly is the Cosmos? What’s the story behind the roughly 6,000 stars and countless others we glimpse with the naked eye?

Here’s a common definition floating around the internet:

“Cosmos, derived from Latin, evokes ideas of an orderly, harmonious, and systematic universe.”

Doesn’t that sound wonderful? Cosmos is a word I deeply cherish. In the documentary “Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey,” there’s a memorable statement:

“If we imagine the birth of the universe as January 1st, then the first humans appeared on December 31st at 23:59:46. We are incredibly new in cosmic terms. Smile!”

The documentary continues:

“Colors result from different wavelengths of light, but there’s an even greater secret within colors. Spectral lines those barcode-like patterns revealed when light passes through a prism provide clues about the atoms present in the light source. By studying these lines, scientists determine the molecular makeup of distant stars and planets. Remarkably, the entire universe shares the same elemental building blocks, confirming we are indeed stardust. Isn’t that fascinating?”

Indeed, we are all stardust, it’s difficult to argue against that.

But what about stars themselves?

Let’s briefly adopt a scientific lens here.

The Big Bang Theory describes the universe originating from a single, infinitely dense point rapidly expanding to form everything we see today. I subscribe to this theory, which explains that as the universe expanded and cooled, it reached conditions allowing atomic nuclei to form.

Initially, around 75% of the atoms were hydrogen, about 25% helium, with trace amounts of lithiumthese remain the universe’s most abundant elements today.

The theory also highlights that early stars contained virtually no heavy elements. Every element heavier than helium such as carbon, oxygen, silicon, and iron was forged within stars. Even heavier elements like gold, silver, zinc, and mercury were created during the spectacular explosions known as supernovae, which scattered these materials across the cosmos.

An intriguing tool for understanding star evolution is the Hertzsprung-Russell Diagram (H-R Diagram), developed around 1910 by astronomers Ejnar Hertzsprung and Henry Norris Russell. It plots stars based on luminosity and temperature, enabling us to trace their life cycles.

Now, for a fun science fiction twist: Imagine using a diagram similar to the H-R Diagram to identify exactly which stardust each of us originated from and to find others closely related to our cosmic origin. This scenario could lead to a compelling science fiction narrative, perhaps even a touch of post-apocalyptic drama.

This entry turned out to be fast-paced and somewhat whimsical. Thank you for bearing with me.