The Moonshot
As I sit in my living room awaiting the launch of Artemis II, I am not sure how I feel about this mission.
T minus ten minutes.
Sitting here waiting for what some say amounts to the most expensive road trip ever, I can’t help but feel this money and effort could be better used elsewhere.
T minus five minutes.
At the same time, I find myself filled with hope by humankind’s return to space travel.
T minus two minutes.
Maybe this mission—and those to come in the future—can bring a sense of awe back to humankind.
T minus one minute.
I know we can reach for a better world.
T minus thirty seconds.
More good will come from a rocket to the moon than from rockets falling among buildings and people.
Launch.
Photo Credit: The New York Times
As I watch Artemis II streak across the sky, as I listen to the combined effort of thousands of hours of hard work come to fruition via radio chatter, as I hear the voices of our cosmic explorers acknowledging their safe arrival into the blackness just outside our collective home, as my eyes water, as my heartbeat quickens, as I squeeze my wife’s hand—I feel small in the best way.
There are four astronauts aboard the Orion spacecraft in orbit—NASA is headed back to the moon for the first time in my life. The livestream ends.
The broadcaster announces that tonight, the US President has invited himself into my living room to talk about war.
This isn’t the first or last time he will do so.
