A few days ago, my friend Victoria sent me a video from her boyfriend Steve. I met Victoria at a conference this spring, spending hours sitting and chatting about life and choices made, and why we did what we did. We bonded over a similar aim in our wanderings; she travels because she loves to learn and see and eat and understand, slowly moving from place to place in an attempt to get a feel for its people and its spirit, not just its sights. She’s a good egg, and I’m glad we met because I have no doubt we’ll stay friends for the long haul.
In the middle of our conversation, Victoria brought up Steve’s work for the Planetary Collective. Having followed me on Twitter, she saw my love for most things space-related and thought I would enjoy his project. She was right. It’s gorgeous. It gave me goosebumps. And I’ve been sending it to everyone I know.
Over and above the sheer beauty of the film and its message, listening to what these astronauts say and how they talk about a world of connectedness is something I’ve written about on a much lesser, much less intense scale. When I posted about how you don’t need to get off the beaten path to connect with others, or about the long travel days that lead to serendipity and friendship, the point wasn’t to say “hey I have fantastic travel stories and am having fun – look at meee!” The point was to reiterate, as I do when chatting with friends and family on my visits to Montreal or NYC, that the most important benefit to travel for me has been the consistent reminder that we are all connected in one way or another, and we are all more alike than we think. It’s both a state of thankfulness (for being able to build out an unconventional life and/or travel the way I do) and a state of openness (learning from and appreciating that connectedness).
The Planetary Collective describes its short film, Overview, thusly: “Astronauts who have seen the Earth from space have often described the ‘overview effect’ as an experience that has transformed their perspective of the planet and mankind’s place upon it, and enabled them to perceive it as our shared home, without boundaries between nations or species. ‘Overview’ is a short film that explores this phenomenon through interviews with five astronauts who have experienced the Overview Effect.”
From the film’s transcript, graciously provided by Victoria and Steve, Frank White on coining the term “the Overview Effect”:
“I was flying cross-country, from the East coast to the West coast in the 1970s, and I was looking out the window. And as I was looking down at the planet, the thought came to me: anyone living in a space settlement, or living on the moon, would always have an overview. They would see things that we know, but we don’t experience. That the Earth is one system, and we’re all part of that system. And that there is a certain unity and coherence to it all. And I immediately called it the ‘Overview Effect’.”
I have heard travellers describe their own wanderings in a similar way. That you cannot ignore the happenings in other places, or stick your head in the sand, because it’s too late – you’ve stepped away and looked at the planet in a different light. (Or, as I said to someone recently “once you’re a pickle you can’t go back to being a cucumber.”) While far less vivid or spectacular than a space trip, travel does tend to push people to think about the forest through the trees and to constantly pin current observations against past experiences. We all do this, naturally. But I think that the more you see, the more you have to compare ‘against’, which then permanently alters your views of the planet and of its people. The ultimate example of this, of course, is seeing it all from above, an orb glowing in the darkness of space.
From Overview, Ron Garan on seeing the earth from space:
“It really does look like this really beautiful oasis out in the middle of nothingness. And if you have a chance for your eyes to adjust, and you can actually see the stars and the milky way, it’s this oasis against the backdrop of infinity – this enormous universe behind it.”
* * *
Several years ago, I wrote about how part of what I sought from my travels was a desire to still the whirring in my mind, to seek a form of mindfulness I had never obtained in my years of contracts and fast-paced city life of NY. I never attained what could be called a “state” of calm but I certainly have moments of it, many of them. It’s a bursting-out-of-your-chest feeling of wonder and awe and gratitude, and despite not being a remotely religious person it makes me want to press my forehead to the ground, to touch the earth in physical way.
In the video, Edgar Mitchell describes his search for a name to accurately describe what it felt like to see the earth from space:
“When they came back to me a few weeks later, they said, “Well, in the ancient literature we found a description called ‘savikalpa samadhi’. That means that you see things as you see them with your eyes, but you experience them emotionally and viscerally, as with ecstasy, and a sense of total unity and oneness.”
Savikalpa samadhi, the highest of spiritual states of consciousness (each a samadhi), second only to nirvikalpa samadhi (infinite bliss). Descriptions online abound – “In this state the conception of time and space is altogether different. For an hour or two hours you are completely in another world.” (1) or “The body is in a trancelike state, but the consciousness is fully perceptive of its blissful experience within” (2).
I cannot even imagine what it must feel like to see the blue marble of the earth from space, and it would be trite to compare that feeling to my own travels. But as I’ve said above, I can appreciate some measure of what Mitchell and others have said. Stepping outside of your own world (literally or figuratively) can lead to this sense of thankfulness and oneness, an emotional surge of compassion for just about everything. I can only speak to me, but that is how I feel on those days where the whirring stops and I can focus only on the broader picture, instead of the broader picture and all its infinite components. And the longer I’ve travelled, the more frequently the feeling crops up.
I’ve thought long and hard about why – is it a disconnect from what my colleagues and friends would deem ‘normal’ lives? Is it because I have had the ability to pick and choose where I want to go, removing stressors that I’d otherwise have to handle on a daily basis? Perhaps some measure of both, but in large part neither: once I saw the world as interconnected and people as more alike than I realized, it was impossible to ‘unsee’ it. (Back to the pickle/cucumber analogy, then.) I don’t think I could forget this feeling even if tomorrow I decided to return to the law and take a more traditional route; the type of invisible calibration it entailed seems un-turn-off-able. It’s not constantly at the forefront, but it hasn’t ever left me either.
Overview isn’t just about the feeling of otherworldly bliss I excerpted above. The short film also includes very important messaging about the environment and sustainability, and about working toward a better future. I highlighted those quotes because they were what resonated the most with the aggregate of my own stories, but truly the entire video is worth a watch.
I may never experience the Overview Effect, nor an incredible suspension of disbelief or an otherworldly ability to feel fully mindful. But the small but powerful glimpses of something like it, wrapped in a blanket of gratitude, have been some of the most beautiful moments during my last years of travel.
I hope you enjoy,
Postscript: Planetary Collective’s new trailer for their full-length feature Continuum is now out. Watch it here.