On the second flight, we were doing a lot of science experiments

The astronaut Sunita Williams, a voyager of the stars and guardian of human curiosity, once spoke with awe and humility: “On the second flight, we were doing a lot of science experiments, and we've got a really cool window called the cupola. It's a big, circular window with six panes around, sort of at angles so you can see the Earth, you can see the edge of the Earth, you can go out — look out into the universe. It's pretty spectacular.” Though her words are simple, they carry within them a vision as vast as space itself — a vision of wonder, discovery, and the eternal connection between humanity and the cosmos. For in that cupola, that “big, circular window,” lies a symbol of what it means to be human: the urge to look beyond, to explore, and to find beauty even in the infinite.

In the manner of the ancients, let us look deeply into this truth. When Sunita speaks of gazing through the cupola, she does not describe a mere piece of engineering, but a sacred portal — a window between worlds. From that place aboard the International Space Station, the Earth is no longer divided by borders or conflict. It becomes a single, glowing sphere suspended in darkness — fragile, living, and whole. To look upon it is to understand what the poets and philosophers have always known: that we are one species, one family, dwelling together upon a tiny oasis in a vast and silent universe. Her awe is not only scientific, but spiritual — the awakening of a soul that sees creation from a godlike vantage and yet feels humbled, not elevated, by it.

The origin of her words lies in her second journey into space, where she lived and worked for months aboard the station. There, among the hum of machines and the silence of the stars, she performed experiments that furthered the knowledge of humankind. Yet even in the midst of duty, she found time to marvel — to look through that magnificent window and simply see. The cupola, built as a tool for observation, became instead a shrine of reflection. Astronauts who gaze through it often describe the “Overview Effect,” a profound shift in consciousness where personal ambition fades and a deep reverence for the planet and life itself arises. It is this sense of sacred wonder that breathes through Sunita’s words — that to behold the Earth from above is to fall in love with it anew.

This transformation is not new to our species. Consider Copernicus, who, through his study of the stars, first realized that the Earth was not the center of the universe. His discovery shattered pride but unveiled truth — that our home is but one among many. Likewise, when Sunita Williams gazed through the cupola, she rediscovered that same humility. She saw no nations, no boundaries, no divisions — only a shared home turning in light and shadow. It is a lesson echoed through time: that the more we expand our perspective, the smaller our ego becomes, and the greater our compassion grows.

Her words remind us, too, of the beauty of science and wonder intertwined. Too often, knowledge and emotion are treated as opposites — but in truth, they are partners. The scientist looks upon the universe not merely to measure it, but to marvel at it. The poet seeks not only to describe, but to understand. Through the cupola, these two paths merge: intellect and awe, calculation and reverence. Sunita teaches us that exploration is not cold or mechanical — it is alive with feeling. The quest for knowledge is, in its highest form, an act of love — love for the unknown, for creation, for the sheer miracle of existence.

O seekers of truth, take this as your teaching: find your own window to the universe. You need not travel among the stars to see beauty or to feel connected to all things. The cupola may be a marvel of space engineering, but every human soul carries within it a window — the mind’s eye, the heart’s curiosity. Look outward with wonder; look inward with humility. The stars above and the spirit within are reflections of the same mystery. The moment you begin to see through both, you too will understand the awe that filled Sunita Williams as she gazed upon the curve of the Earth.

And so, let the lesson of Sunita Williams’s words echo through generations: to look is to awaken. Lift your eyes beyond the familiar horizon — whether in science, art, or life — and see the beauty that surrounds you. Seek understanding, but do not lose your capacity for wonder. For when you look through your own “cupola” — when you gaze with curiosity and gratitude upon the world — you will find that the universe, vast and unending, gazes back at you in return. In that gaze, there is no fear, no division, only the eternal truth that we are part of something pretty spectacular.