Sunday, January 24, 2010

The final frontier, revisited

I have gone through a bit of a radical change in my life over the past few days.

In reading so much about outer space as of late, I have formulated a sort of purpose for my being.

I need to build things for celestial use. I need to contribute to the program. As a lowly engineering student, I have accepted the fact that I will most likely never leave our atmosphere. I will never experience weightlessness. I will never view the earth externally. I will never gaze upon the stark blackness that is the vacuum of space. I will never fear death at the slightest mistake; the slightest equipment failure.

We are just not there yet. It's not impossible, but improbable.

But it is coming. This technology is imminent. It will not be long before space is something that future generations will begin to take for granted. While it is depressing to know in my heart that it is unlikely that I will ever experience these technologies first hand, my recent studies have moved me into a sort of passion that I have never before experienced. I must be a part of this. I must contribute to these advancements. I want people of our future to know that when the general public became uninterested in the space program, that I was there to care about it. I want historians to know that when people were too caught up in their cell phone technology and their convenience gadgetry to care about the big stuff, that there were still some who cared about true, lasting, and revolutionary progress. I want people to know that when the general consensus in this country was that the space program was wasteful and not worthy of the necessary funding, that we were there, feverishly supporting it.

I just want people to know. I can not let this passion for mechanics go unexpressed. I want to leave my mark on this world somehow, however small or indirectly. I refuse to grow, learn, live, and die without note. I need to know that I have contributed to something important. So this is my purpose: to benefit space exploration. I am still trying to wrap my head around how, but there it is, plain and simple.

You know, it's traumatizing really, going from having no reason to live other than the fear of harming others in my own demise to having such an intense purpose and motivation for life that the mere thought of the subject matter brings a tremble to my breath.

It is a lot to handle, and it is suffocating me.

But I have latched onto the idea like a child latches onto his favorite toy, refusing to let go.


1 comment:

  1. You know, I kind of envy you for feeling so passionate.
    In all my years of living (granted, I've not lived many, but still.) I've never really felt strongly either way about any subject matter.
    So, all I can say to you, my good sir, is that I wish you luck with your dreams!