We shall to cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.*
(T. S. Eliot)
From our lonely corner of the cosmos we have used creativity and imagination to shape words and images and structures and sounds to express our longings and frustrations, our confusions and revelations, our failures and triumphs.**
We are the curious ones, seekers and explorers all.
Sometimes we forget.
We walk this earth within billions of everyday stories and yet we have our heads among the stars, a drama sometimes hidden in the repeating theatre of life:
the central animating force of our species, the wellspring of our joy and curiosity, the restlessness that gave us Whitman and Wheeler, Keats and Curie, is the very fathoming of this fathomless universe — an impulse itself a marvel in light of our own improbability.^
When we remember – through something we read or a picture we look upon or a life-lived-large or a walk through nature or some science or maths or music or … – we resume the path through earth and stars that will carry us home.