Go outside.
Take a walk.
Find a warm and sun-light patch of grass.
Take your hand and plunge it in the ground.
Flex your fingers.
Take a breath.
Feel the dirt.
Hear wind inside the trees.

This is the Earth.
This is where you live.
Everyone you've ever known calls this place home.
This is the Earth.
This is your home.

Look at the Sun, but not too close.
All the life you've ever seen
at anytime in anyplace and anywhere became from this.
This is the Sun.
Brillant,
ever-rising,
one alone.

She is a Star.
A Star,
a point of light,
a strength beyond the bounds of comprehension,
so strong, and yet so all alone.
With all her fire, she sits so far from any sister
that a whisper lasts a life.
She burns alone.

She finds another,
they tangle in the dust of their embrace.
They dance, they fly,
they kiss, they die.
And they are one of many.
Gaseous seas and nurseries,
that they themselves can't see,
contain their beauty, their harmonies, their patterned skies.
They make a galaxy.

We passengers defined by our dependency,
we are a galaxy.
It's you and we.
We scar, evolve and grow,
our selves together tied until totality.

We age to one.
We cluster,
arms outstretched,
bound by silent rope,
endless, timeless, a signature of our own history.

And as far as we look in every direction,
no matter the distance, no matter the time:
the Universe.
All of it.
Everything.
All space, all time,
All knowledge, all intent,
All matter, all energy,
Every orientation and perspective,
All scales,
All measures,
All we will ever know,
All that can be known,
All knowing,
the Universe.

the Universe.



This is the Earth.
Everyone you know calls this place home.
Take a deep breath.
Look up.
This is the Earth.
This is your home.

​I opened up a new roll of string today. It was wound so tight around itself that I was unable to find a place to begin the string. After several turns, I realized: I must cut somewhere and pull on whatever thread comes out. If I continue to look for the Right place to pull, I will not unravel the string.

This week I passed my preliminary exams and finished the requirements to receive a Masters Degree in Astronomy from UC Berkeley. It has been a culmination of two years of hard work, writing the first few pages on a new chapter of my life. This was not easy for me and I'm proud of achieving something earned by staying committed to challenges that looked like failure as I struggled to grow. My world isn't radically different today, but I did something to level up and go to sleep happy. It took commitment and the unending support of my friends, family and my dearest Brittany.

What keeps me up is what's outside. The world feels harsh and broken and unrecognizable. It feels like I'm running out of time as the pieces slide into place on an upside-down jigsaw puzzle. It's hard to decide what to do when it is unclear where things are headed. I don't want any of my actions to fail to enact the full intention of my convictions and therefore I find it difficult to act.

If you are feeling lost or alone or helpless, and feel like the problem is tangled beyond recognition, just start by cutting the string somewhere. Then take that tiny piece and pull. Pretty soon you will have your string. It will not be clean and there will be disorder after you do it. But then you can pull the string tight and wrap it up again the closest to the Right way as you know how.