“We must unlearn the constellations to see the stars.”
Jack Gilbert, from his poem, “Tear it Down”
When did we first try to corral the stars – was it the Greeks, the Babylonians, the Mayans, Chinese astronomers of the Zhou dynasty? According to their traditions, the first Australians have been mapping the skies for 50,000 years. Or was it further back, archaic humans, their memories lost in time, who looked up in awe and wondered themselves into the night sky?
Constellations are human constructs, framing the stars with stories that explain something to us, about us; that we are brave, or foolish, or brokenhearted. We project our fears, desires, and frailties onto a glorious cast of characters – a guardian dragon, a boastful hunter, a vain queen, seven sisters seeking safety, wise animals offering guidance, the twins who stand at the portal between the worlds. Constellations reflect our nature back to us so we can ponder who we are.
I love stories because they help me make sense of things. They make the incomprehensible grandeur of the cosmos something I can relate to. But reducing reality into meaning diminishes the light and color of the stars themselves, as any filter must. We are arrogant if we think the stars have meaning because we name them. There was a time when they had no names, and we looked at them directly, fully as they are.
What would we become if we could lose the old stories about ourselves, patterns accreted over time that explain us and constrain us, if we could experience ourselves fully as we are? It might reveal a field of bright possibilities shining in the dark, or a tragic mistake winding its way to destruction. Are we capable of transcending our worst tendencies and creating something beautiful, or destined to flame out in our own supernova?
Jack Gilbert is challenging us to find out, to drop the old ways of thought and self-belief, to unlearn our constellations and see what we are made of. In all its chaos and turbulence, violence and upheaval, I think that’s what the world is trying to tell us: it’s time for us to grow up.
As a species, I wonder if we’ve learned enough. Maybe we need more wars to learn that their pain and devastation aren’t worth it. Maybe we need to indulge our greed and fantasies of power for another eon to know they do not satisfy. Maybe we need to close our hearts more firmly before we learn the redemptive power of empathy and reciprocal care.
Who are we humans, fully as we are? I’m trying to find out. I am trying to let the old constructs of myself fall away, and to convince others to allow the same. I am willing to wait and eager to see what unfolds from our unlearning.
Photo by Klemen Vrankar on Unsplash