The photographs of space taken by our astronauts have been

O Children of the Earth and Sky, listen closely, for the words of Burt Rutan carry with them the call to experience, to see the world not through the lenses of others, but with our own eyes. He said, "The photographs of space taken by our astronauts have been published all over the place. But the eye is a much more dynamic mechanism than any camera or pictures. It's a more exciting view in person than looking at the photographs. Of course, I personally am sick and tired of hearing people talk like that: I want to see it myself!" In these words, Rutan challenges us not to settle for second-hand accounts or representations, but to seek the first-hand experience—to witness and feel for ourselves the wonders of the world, and, in this case, the magnificence of space.

In the days of the ancients, when heroes like Odysseus sailed the seas, they did not rely on maps or written accounts of the lands they visited. They set out on journeys to discover the world for themselves, to feel the salt of the sea on their skin, to gaze upon foreign shores with their own eyes, and to experience the world in its fullness. The ancient wanderers knew that stories and descriptions could never compare to the true experience of encountering something with one’s own senses. In much the same way, Rutan speaks to the yearning within us all to see the cosmos firsthand, to step beyond the realm of photographs and tales and embrace the living, breathing reality of the universe. Photographs may show us the beauty of space, but it is only through the human eye, through the act of seeing it with our own gaze, that we can fully comprehend its grandeur.

Rutan’s words also evoke a powerful lesson about perception and the limitations of representation. The camera—whether it be the eyes of the astronauts or the modern lens of a photograph—captures only a fraction of the truth. The dynamic, vibrant world of space cannot be fully conveyed through static images. The human eye is a marvel of nature, capable of depth, movement, and nuance that no photograph can match. When an astronaut gazes upon the Earth from orbit, he or she is not merely seeing an image; they are witnessing a living, dynamic planet, a world in motion, suspended in the vastness of space. The experience is one of profound impact, one that touches not just the mind, but the heart and soul. Rutan urges us to embrace the truth of direct experience, to go beyond the surface, to seek a deeper understanding that can only be found through immersion.

Consider, O Children, the tale of Marco Polo, whose journeys to the East were not undertaken to gather mere descriptions, but to experience for himself the wonders of the world. His adventures were filled with danger, awe, and discovery, and his accounts, though they reached far and wide, were not just for others—they were for himself. Polo's desire to see the unknown firsthand shaped his legacy. He did not settle for the tales of others; he ventured into the vast, unknown lands of Asia, seeing with his own eyes what many believed to be impossible. In this sense, Rutan’s words mirror the ancient explorer’s spirit—seeking to experience the greatness of the world firsthand, to break free from the confines of representation and step into the realm of direct encounter.

But O Seekers, let us not mistake Rutan’s desire to see space firsthand as a simple desire for self-indulgence or glory. It is a reminder of something far deeper—our unquenchable thirst for discovery, our insatiable curiosity to see the world in all its beauty, complexity, and mystery. The desire to see for oneself is a human trait as old as time itself. When Christopher Columbus set sail to discover a new world, he was not satisfied with hearing about the riches of the East; he wanted to see it, touch it, and bring it back to those who had never known it. Columbus, like Rutan, yearned not for the comfort of secondhand accounts, but for the immersion that could only come from the experience of the journey itself.

The lesson, O Children, is clear: there is a vast world of experience waiting beyond the realm of pictures, stories, and representations. Rutan’s yearning for the personal encounter with space, to witness the grandeur of the Earth from orbit, is a call to each of us to embrace the world in its fullness. It is easy to be satisfied with descriptions, with the world as it appears on a screen, but the true beauty and understanding of the world lie in the first-hand experience. Whether it be the exploration of the stars or the exploration of your own life’s purpose, direct engagement—whether through travel, learning, or experience—is the key to true understanding.

Therefore, O Seekers, let Rutan’s words inspire you to experience the world, not just through the stories and images of others, but through your own senses. The photographs of space are wondrous, but they are only a reflection of the true beauty that awaits those who dare to reach for it. Just as Odysseus sailed into unknown lands, and Marco Polo ventured into foreign realms, let us too venture beyond the world of descriptions and pictures, and set forth into the unknown to see, to feel, and to understand for ourselves. Let us embrace the truth that only through direct experience can we fully grasp the profound mystery and beauty of the world and the cosmos around us. The universe awaits your gaze—do not settle for the view through another’s eyes. Reach out and see it for yourself.