I was drawn to astronomy by a teenage existential quest. Around

Hear, O seeker of the stars, the words of Carolyn Porco, a voyager not of ships but of thought: “I was drawn to astronomy by a teenage existential quest. Around 13, I was deep into wondering about the meaning of life and what I was doing here. I turned to religion, but that did nothing for me. I got to wondering where was here. So, I began studying astronomy and became enthralled by what I learned.” These words shine like constellations upon the page, for they reveal the yearning of the human heart when it gazes into the abyss of existence. Hers was not a search for wealth or power, but for the truth of being itself—where we are, why we are, and what it means to live under the vast canopy of heaven.

Consider first the cry of the existential quest. At the tender age of thirteen, the veil of childhood lifted from her eyes, and she began to ask the questions that pierce the soul: What is the meaning of life? Why am I here? Such questions have haunted prophets and philosophers, poets and kings. Some turn to religion, some to art, some to philosophy. Porco turned first to religion, but found no voice there that answered her hunger. Yet her journey did not end—she shifted her gaze from the scriptures of men to the scriptures written in the stars.

She then asked not only, “Why am I here?” but also, “Where is here?” And in that shift lies a great wisdom. For to understand life, one must also understand the stage upon which life is played. The Earth is not an isolated cradle, but a world suspended in infinite darkness, circling a sun, adrift in a galaxy of billions, itself one among countless more. By turning her eyes upward, Porco discovered that the cosmos is not the enemy of meaning, but the source of awe that sustains it.

History echoes her path. Recall the ancient Greek philosopher Anaxagoras, who was condemned for teaching that the sun was not a god but a fiery stone, and that the moon reflected its light. His search for truth in the heavens did not diminish existence but expanded it. Or recall Galileo, who turned his telescope to the night sky and revealed moons orbiting Jupiter, breaking forever the illusion that Earth was the center of all. Like Porco, they sought not comfort in mystery, but understanding in the stars—and in that understanding, they found a deeper reverence for reality.

The meaning of Porco’s words is not to cast aside faith, but to show that for some souls, the path to the divine is through knowledge rather than creed. To her, astronomy was not cold mathematics, but a revelation—a way of answering life’s greatest questions not with dogma, but with discovery. To see Saturn’s rings, to measure the light of distant galaxies, to grasp the immensity of space, is to be struck with humility and awe. Her story teaches us that wonder can be found not only in prayer, but in the patient study of the heavens.

The lesson is thus: when life confronts you with questions of meaning, do not despair if one path fails to answer. Seek another, for the quest itself is holy. Whether in religion, in science, in art, or in love, the search for truth is the mark of a soul awake. Do not fear to question, nor fear to wander, for every path sincerely walked brings you closer to wisdom.

Practical counsel follows. Lift your eyes to the stars as Porco did. Read of the cosmos, not merely for knowledge, but for perspective, for humility, for awe. Ask both the spiritual and the scientific questions, for both can enrich the soul. Let wonder be your compass, curiosity your lantern. And above all, never stop seeking, for the search itself is life’s noblest calling.

Therefore, O traveler of existence, remember Carolyn Porco’s wisdom: the existential quest may begin with fear, but it can end with awe. When you ask what and why, do not forget to ask where. For to know your place in the cosmos is to awaken to the miracle of being. And in that awakening, you may find that the meaning of life is not given once for all, but discovered again and again in the infinite sky above you.