Sitting on a long flight from Atlanta to San Francisco and after exhausting my reading options, I browsed the screen for a movie. This was a 4.5 hours flight and the range of choices was wide. Eventually I settled on a 80 minute documentary Cielo about the sky in the Atacama desert in Chile. The image below and the premise of being a “love poem” to the sky intrigued me enough to pick it among a myriad of options. I was ready for some calm contemplation in the beginning of what I expected to be an intense work week in San Francisco. The film turned out to be cinematographic feast for the eye. Ironically, as I traversed the sky, I was also learning to marvel at it from a different vantage point.
Desert-Sky Connection
I have had a long lasting fascination for deserts. Ever since my first visit to California in 2008, I have been drawn to these arid landscapes. There is something inviting in their barren and rugged terrain. Almost like an invitation to search for its hidden beauty not as easily accessible as in places like the beach or a forest. It is also an invitation to interiority, hence why spiritual seekers for ages have found wisdom and meaning in these desolate places.
Even so, my first question when the film started was “why a film about the sky in the desert?” We often associate desert with desolate, hot, lifeless places. While this is true, deserts also have an abundance of clear skies and dry air making it greatly suitable for observatories. Furthermore, because deserts tend to repel rather than attract human settlements, this means less artificial light or radio interference to impair night sky viewing.
This desert, more specifically, had an even more direct connection to the sky. It turns out that that the Atacama desert is now being used to research how life could happen in Mars. Some of its dry areas look other-worldly, a remnant from another planet. Whether throught its sky or through its soil, the Atacama opens a gateway other worlds.
With all its beauty, the desert was only a supporting actor on the film. The main character was the sky. The documentary illustrated this well through sped-up views of the sky where you could see it move slowly. The overall visual effect was mesmerizing. It was both soothing and reassuring, putting me at ease against any flight jitter. The documentary would be incomplete without letting the viewer see the sky from the desert. While only a representation of the real experience, it was enough to express its beauty.
Diverse Points of Views
The film did a good job in showcasing a wide-range of perspectives on the sky as they are experienced by those who live in the Atacama. In one of the scenes, they interview a couple of algae collectors who offered a pristine view of the beauty of sky. On another part, Jorge Rojas a young algae collector told personal stories of supernatural apparitions in the desert at night. These views were contrasted by those of the Astrophysicists that work in the area. Nestor Espinoza, a planet hunter, shared on camera a song he had written inspired by his countless hours in the observatory.
In one of the most striking scenes of documentary, Roberto Garcia, a native storyteller dances in the desert as the sunsets expressing his people’s long-lasting relationship with the desert and its glorious sky. Later you see him telling ancient stories to a group of children, passing on to the next generation the wisdom of those who came before him.
The overall message is how the desert sky becomes an invitation to all, from the scientist to the day laborer. Whether it is dancing or analyzing a screen of the computer, the sky is an inexhaustible source of wonder, mysterious and awe-inspiring, regardless of personal background. It also reveals the myriad ways to respond to the sky’s invitation. Whether it is through careful painstaking analysis, artistic forms like dance or music or even as a source for meaning. These are just a few human ways to respond to the allure of the stars.
Undeniable Spiritual Connection
While the film featured native spirituality, one of the most poignant statements came from one of the Scientists. Astrophysicist Mercedes Lopez-Morales, reflected upon her experience working in the observatory and spending hours watching the sky. As she is re-telling her musings, she stops to express the sense of human frailty in a vast and old universe. In a age where we are so obsessed with ourselves, it is refreshing to be reminded of our smallness in contrast to deep space.
Beyond that, listening to Morales’ musings, I reflected on technology. While it is true that the Atacama is place of raw beauty away from civilization, it was interesting how technology could also be an ally in uncovering spiritual meaning. If it wasn’t for the advanced instruments the astrophysicists has at her disposal, she may not have arrived at those conclusions. The issue is not a nature versus technology conundrum but how to bring them together with a receptive perspective.
It reminds me of the Biblical saying of “those who have eyes to see let them see.” A receptive perspective is all it takes to find spiritual connection in God saturated world. A spiritual connection is available to all regardless of educational or cultural background and even religious belief.
An Invitation to Look up
Can we learn to look up or are destined to look down? My own journey recently has taken a surprising turn. While reflecting on theology, technology and humanity, I am finding myself more drawn towards space. It is not an explicit association at first but the more I think about, the more it makes sense. The movement goes from distraction to self-awareness, then from self-awareness to exteriority. In a noisy word, the first movement is when we take time to be quiet, put down our screens and move inwardly. There we are forced to face our fears, questions, doubts and anxieties.
Thankfully, the journey does not ends there. If all I did was learning to become more self-aware, this would be a gigantic exercise in self-centeredness. We would become an amalgamation of atomic beings too occupied with ourselves to care about what or who is around us. That is when the journey needs to lead to exteriority, to a place outside ourselves. This outward movement unveils our connection to other humans, to nature and eventually to the universe.
Christian theology should helps us re-connect with the sky again. In my native tongue of Portuguese, there is no difference between the words “sky” and “heaven.” Maybe there is profound a connection there in this word association. The notion of a supernatural heaven separate from the physical outer space has been overstated. Maybe instead of closing our eyes to pray, we should learn to pray with our eyes wide-open and our heads turned up to the sky.
Let sky be the catalyst that leads us to fall in love with this world again.