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Although we rarely stop to think about the origin of the elements of our bodies, we are directly connected to the greater universe. In fact, we are literally made of stardust that was liberated from the interiors of dying stars in gigantic explosions, and then collected to form our Earth as the solar system took shape some 4.5 billion years ago. Until about two decades ago, however, we knew only of our own planetary system so that it was hard to know for certain how planets formed, and what the history of the matter in our bodies was.

Then, in 1995, the first planet to orbit a distant Sun-like star was discovered. In the 20 years since then, thousands of others have been found. Most planets cannot be detected with our present-day technologies, but estimates based on those that we have observed suggest that almost every star in the sky has at least one extrasolar planet (or exoplanet) orbiting it. That means that there are more than 100 billion planetary systems in our Milky Way Galaxy alone! Imagine that: astronomers have gone from knowing of 1 planetary system to some 100 billion, in the same decades in which human genome scientists sequenced the 6 billion base-pairs that lie at the foundation of our bodies. How many of these planetary systems could potentially support life, and would that life use a similar code?

Exoplanets are much too far away to be actually imaged, and they are way too faint to be directly observed next to the bright glow of the stars they orbit. Therefore, the first exoplanet discoveries were made through the gravitational tug on their central star during their orbits. This pull moves the star slightly back and forth. Only relatively heavy, close-in planets can be detected that way, using the repeating Doppler shifts of their central star’s light from red to blue and back. Another way to find planets is to measure how they block the light of their central star if they happen to cross in front of it as seen from Earth. If they are seen to do this twice or more, the temporary dimmings of their star’s light can disclose the planet’s size and distance to its star (basically using the local “year” – the time needed to orbit its star – for these calculations).  If both the gravitational tug and the dimming profile can be measured, then even the mass of the planet can be estimated. Size and mass together give an average density from which, in turn, knowledge of the chemical composition of that planet comes within reach.

With the discoveries of so many planets, we have realized that an astonishing diversity exists: hot Jupiter-sized planets that orbit closer to their star than Mercury orbits the Sun, quasi-Earth-sized planets that may have rain showers of molten iron or glass, frozen planets around faintly-glowing red dwarf stars, and possibly some billions of Earth-sized planets at distances from their host stars where liquid water could exist on the surface, possibly supporting life in a form that we might recognize if we saw it.

Guided by these recent observations, mega-computers programmed with the laws of physics give us insight into how these exo-worlds are formed, from their initial dusty disks to the eventual complement of star-orbiting planets. We can image the disks directly by focusing on the faint infrared glow of their gas and dust that is warmed by their proximity to their star. We cannot, however, directly see these far-away planets, at least not yet. But now, for the first time, we can at least see what forming planets do to the gas and dust around them in the process of becoming a mature heavenly body.

A new observatory, called ALMA, working with microwaves that lie even beyond the infrared color range, has been built in the dry Atacama desert in Chili. ALMA was pointed at a young star, hundreds of light years away. Its image of that target star, LH Tauri, not only shows the star itself and the disk around it, but also a series of dark rings that are most likely created as the newly forming planets pull in the gas and dust around them. The image is of stunning quality: it shows details down to a resolution equivalent to the width of a finger seen at a distance of 50 km (30 miles).

At the distance of LH Tauri, even that stunning imaging capability means that we can see structures only if these are larger than about the distance of the Sun out to Jupiter, so there is a long way yet to go before we see anything like the planet directly. But we will observe more of these juvenile planetary systems just past the phase of their birth. And images like that give us a glimpse of what happened in our own planetary system over 4.5 billion years ago, before the planets were fully formed, pulling in the gases and dust that we now live on, and that ultimately made their way to the cycles of our own planet, to constitute all living beings on Earth.

What a stunning revolution: from being part of the only planetary system we knew of, we have been put among billions and billions of neighbors. We remember Galileo Galilei for showing us that the Sun and not the Earth was the center of the solar system. Will our society remember the names of those who proved that billions of planets exist all over the Galaxy?

Headline image credit: Star shower, by c@rljones. CC-BY-NC-2.0 via Flickr.

The post Stardust making homes in space appeared first on OUPblog.

        

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First off, I hoped you enjoyed Animal Communication Month and I want to thank all my fabulous guests who talked of their passion regarding animal communication. Each are wonderful women who have some very important teachings to share.

It’s been a crazy last few months, and quite honestly, I’ve been hesitant to share my thoughts here as I had felt my space was invaded. That’s a yucky place to be in and I am claiming it back. And with this claiming, I want to share what I’ve learned lately. Perhaps, you can relate, and then we can all support each other.

It’s not your shit*

1. Other people’s shit is their shit. Okay, this one is hard to deal with. When someone acts a certain way, I guarantee it’s their own story going round and round in their head that may have nothing to do with you at all. With one of my relatives, I had this amazing shift when I realized I had a long-standing reaction taking things personally, which HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH ME. It WAS my shit of why I took it personally. When I realized what my shit was, after a lot of learning and figuring things out,  I gained some understanding and some real peace, and I didn’t react so strongly. I was able to detach, step back and see this. So, basically, we react to others when it’s really our own shit. Unless, of course, someone is just being a shit towards us, then we are reacting to that.

Beware Impossible Mountains

2. There’s many ways to climb a mountain. That means if you are sensitive and hate crowds, don’t think the only way to go out and teach is to lecture to large groups, and it’s the only way for you to be successful. If you hate doing networking luncheons, then network one-on-one through social media that’s more comfortable for you. I had a beautiful writer friend years ago who wrote children’s books. She was truly gifted with words. But the one thing that stopped her in her tracks of being truly successful was she didn’t want to do book signings. She was dreadfully shy and this was the kiss of death for her. Because of this, she didn’t pursue publishing her own children’s books to avoid that fate.

I had a similar experience when I starred in a television show years ago. I knew then I wanted to write and publish a book. I was told, that’s not how it works. “You have to BE somebody first.” I am a stubborn mule. That was too big a mountain to climb. I published my book anyway and I’m glad I did.

Is this the result I want?

3. We need to ask ourselves are my actions or behaviors giving me what I want? If I want connection, healing, resolve, love, understanding, is how I am acting bringing that about or is it bringing others further away from me? If you don’t feel heard, kindly ask someone to listen. If you are angry, let it out in a healthy way. If you need answers, go do some research and ask questions. Cruel/nasty/mean/angry result = cruel/nasty/mean/angry. Hate feeds hate. It’s a lose-lose situation, always.  I’ll never forget my Verizon phone company interaction. The first customer service rep was nasty towards me, so I got nasty. The second rep heard and understood me; validating my feelings. I softened and the interaction changed. There was a healthy resolve.

The hokey-pokey is not what it’s all about

4. I think we all just want to be loved and to love. Love and connection is what it is all about. A world without real, honest connection is one scary, dark, lonely place. Dogs are the greatest teacher of love. It’s hard to not feel loved when a giant puppy is licking your face. Now unconditional love is their majors in life and they have so much to teach us. It’s harder as humans a great deal of time to love like that but we are learning. And we also do need to look at what unconditional love is. It’s not allowing cruelty, especially towards ourselves.

You have every right to keep out what doesn’t feel safe

5. As sensitive people, a great deal of us didn’t learn this. We didn’t know how to create boundaries. We felt we weren’t allowed to. But this is a big one. And you can leave situations that don’t feel safe and people who don’t hear you, or at least create boundaries around those. Lots of times folks write me here asking about spirits that bother them or scary situations, and it’s the same with living people. I used to walk the girls pass one house on my street with two dogs that had no fence. The one dog was a loving, loopy kind of being who in her enthusiasm knocked over elderly Sarah. I didn’t appreciate that nor did Sarah. The other dog, a puppy, was aggressive. She’d zip into the street and bare teeth at Emma. After two times of this, I had a long scream at the dog, which I’m sure the whole neighborhood heard. “No! Unacceptable!” I told her. And the puppy ran back into her house. I then had a long talk with her person. We have a right not to be bullied in our environment. My one friend has a very sweet angel group online. She’s a gentle, kind creature whose whole purpose in life is to help others. She was recently attacked cruelly on her own site by a man who didn’t believe in what she did. He clearly needed to go somewhere else then, where he belonged, but she had every right to block him from that group. And if you are in an environment that doesn’t keep you safe, doesn’t respect the rights or well-being of its members, get out of that environment. It won’t change.

And finally, avoid what feels like an uphill climb

Sometimes, we do need to fight a good fight and keep going. We may be fighting an injustice or we don’t want to give up on our talents, and shouldn’t. But there are other times we are straining, trying, putting out a lot of energy, and it means we are going against the current made for us. We aren’t getting enough support either to help us or to back what we are doing. This causes such a strong fatigue that fills your bones. Believe me, I know. Those are the times to step back and regroup. Follow what does give you energy and where there is support. That’s your bread crumbs for the new direction. Oh, and learn from me. Drowning in resentment over lack of support, really, really doesn’t work. Don’t get stuck there.

Can you relate to these? What have you been learning?

*apologies to those who don’t appreciate cursing or the word “shit,” as I am originally from Jersey and we all learn that word while learning how to drive and that word is perfect for what I am describing

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And speaking of support, if this writing post has helped you, consider buying my HELP I’M SENSITIVE book, or FAIRY ONLINE SCHOOL written classes. I am also busy completing the sequels to that book. Keep posted on developments, by SUBSCRIBING TO THIS SITE.  

One of the big rules we always hear about writing is that there must be conflict! Without conflict you have no tension, no stakes, and the story doesn’t go anywhere. Some say “without conflict you have no story” at all!  Therefore we should always be on the look-out for the conflict in a scene and use it to make our stories more intense, emotional, and keep the boring-police away!

But, I have an admission. I’ve always had a problem with the idea that story revolves around conflict. I get nervous about how it limits what our stories can be about.

Don’t misread that comment. Conflict can be an important and useful storytelling tool, and there’s nothing wrong with using it. But… do we sometimes create conflict simply because we think we are supposed to? Are our lives defined by our conflicts? Is it all Man vs. Man, Man vs. Environment, Man vs. God, Good vs. Evil? Is it always about desire and obstacles and the conflicts that stand in our character’s way?

Is there not room for more?

This emphasis on conflict has always made me think of the fabulous quote in Diane Lefer’s essay, Breaking the Rules of Story Structure, where she says:

“The traditional story revolves around conflict – a requirement Ursula K. Le Guin disparages as the ‘gladatorial view of fiction.’ When we’re taught to focus our stories on a central struggle, we seem to choose by default to base all our plots on the clash of opposing forces. We limit our vision to a single aspect of existence and overlook much of the richness and complexity of our lives, just the stuff that makes a work of fiction memorable” (63).

Janet Burroway adds to this discussion noting that “seeing the world in terms of conflict and crisis, of enemies and warring factions, not only constricts the possibilities of literature… [it] also promulgates an aggressive and antagonistic view of our own lives” (Writing Fiction, 255).

These quotes have always resonated with me. I find I’m not an action-and-conflict writer. But at the same time, I didn’t have any other guidepost to lead me. So, if it’s possible for stories to revolve around something other than conflict, what would that “something else” be?

Connection.

In Writing Fiction, Burroway goes on to discuss a narrative engine built on the human need for connection, rather than the clash of opposing forces. She says:

“A narrative is also driven by a pattern of connection and disconnection between characters that is the main source of its emotional effect. Over the course of a story, and within the smaller scale of a scene, characters make and break emotional bonds of trust, love, understanding, or compassion with one another. A connection may be as obvious as a kiss or as subtle as a glimpse; a connection may be broken with an action as obvious as a slap or as subtle as an arched eyebrow” (255).

This is an idea I can get behind!

A pattern of connection and disconnection is a narrative guideline that feels rooted in truth, human desire, and hope. It’s a guideline that – if you need it to – can lead to conflict, should that be where you want your story to go. For me, the need for connection, and the movement between connecting and disconnecting, exists in a deeper space than conflict alone. Good vs. Evil sits on the surface.  Connection and disconnection is the pulse beneath the skin that motivates our characters. Can good or evil exist without it? This question excites me!  The possibility of small actions energizing a story excites me!

I believe in the little moments.

I believe in the impact of an arched eyebrows and a subtle glimpse, may they have the power to grip our readers with as much intensity as a fight to the death.

One of the big rules we always hear about writing is that there must be conflict! Without conflict you have no tension, no stakes, and the story doesn’t go anywhere. Some say “without conflict you have no story” at all!  Therefore we should always be on the look-out for the conflict in a scene and use it to make our stories more intense, emotional, and keep the boring-police away!

But, I have an admission. I’ve always had a problem with the idea that story revolves around conflict. I get nervous about how it limits what our stories can be about.

Don’t misread that comment. Conflict can be an important and useful storytelling tool, and there’s nothing wrong with using it. But… do we sometimes create conflict simply because we think we are supposed to? Are our lives defined by our conflicts? Is it all Man vs. Man, Man vs. Environment, Man vs. God, Good vs. Evil? Is it always about desire and obstacles and the conflicts that stand in our character’s way?

Is there not room for more?

This emphasis on conflict has always made me think of the fabulous quote in Diane Lefer’s essay, Breaking the Rules of Story Structure, where she says:

“The traditional story revolves around conflict – a requirement Ursula K. Le Guin disparages as the ‘gladatorial view of fiction.’ When we’re taught to focus our stories on a central struggle, we seem to choose by default to base all our plots on the clash of opposing forces. We limit our vision to a single aspect of existence and overlook much of the richness and complexity of our lives, just the stuff that makes a work of fiction memorable” (63).

Janet Burroway adds to this discussion noting that “seeing the world in terms of conflict and crisis, of enemies and warring factions, not only constricts the possibilities of literature… [it] also promulgates an aggressive and antagonistic view of our own lives” (Writing Fiction, 255).

These quotes have always resonated with me. I find I’m not an action-and-conflict writer. But at the same time, I didn’t have any other guidepost to lead me. So, if it’s possible for stories to revolve around something other than conflict, what would that “something else” be?

Connection.

In Writing Fiction, Burroway goes on to discuss a narrative engine built on the human need for connection, rather than the clash of opposing forces. She says:

“A narrative is also driven by a pattern of connection and disconnection between characters that is the main source of its emotional effect. Over the course of a story, and within the smaller scale of a scene, characters make and break emotional bonds of trust, love, understanding, or compassion with one another. A connection may be as obvious as a kiss or as subtle as a glimpse; a connection may be broken with an action as obvious as a slap or as subtle as an arched eyebrow” (255).

This is an idea I can get behind!

A pattern of connection and disconnection is a narrative guideline that feels rooted in truth, human desire, and hope. It’s a guideline that – if you need it to – can lead to conflict, should that be where you want your story to go. For me, the need for connection, and the movement between connecting and disconnecting, exists in a deeper space than conflict alone. Good vs. Evil sits on the surface.  Connection and disconnection is the pulse beneath the skin that motivates our characters. Can good or evil exist without it? This question excites me!  The possibility of small actions energizing a story excites me!

I believe in the little moments.

I believe in the impact of an arched eyebrows and a subtle glimpse, may they have the power to grip our readers with as much intensity as a fight to the death.

One of the most magical storytelling tools in the novelist’s arsenal is that of point of view, or POV for short. Your choice of point of view will determine the quality of the connection your reader feels, not only to your character, but to the point you’re discussing within your story. Who do you want the [...] No related posts.

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