WEBVTT 1 00:00:07.240 --> 00:00:10.480 My grandfather kept a map on his wall. It was 2 00:00:10.560 --> 00:00:14.039 not a map of countries or cities or roads. It 3 00:00:14.119 --> 00:00:16.719 was a map of the stars. He had drawn it 4 00:00:16.800 --> 00:00:20.679 himself on a large sheet of old paper, with a 5 00:00:20.719 --> 00:00:24.440 pencil that was always sharp and a hand that never trembled. 6 00:00:24.960 --> 00:00:29.039 Every constellation was there, every planet he had ever seen, 7 00:00:29.559 --> 00:00:32.759 every star that had ever guided him home. He was 8 00:00:32.799 --> 00:00:36.359 a sailor once, he told me, a long time ago, 9 00:00:36.560 --> 00:00:40.719 before the world changed, He sailed across oceans so vast 10 00:00:40.920 --> 00:00:44.359 that the land disappeared entirely, and there was nothing but 11 00:00:44.520 --> 00:00:48.960 water and sky in every direction. On those nights, when 12 00:00:48.960 --> 00:00:52.079 the sea was dark and the wind was quiet, he 13 00:00:52.119 --> 00:00:54.759 would look up at the stars and find his way. 14 00:00:55.280 --> 00:00:59.520 The stars never lied, he said, They never changed their minds. 15 00:01:00.000 --> 00:01:04.599 They were always there, always in the same place, always reliable. 16 00:01:04.959 --> 00:01:07.640 You could trust the stars. I was a boy when 17 00:01:07.640 --> 00:01:10.560 he told me this. I sat in his study in 18 00:01:10.640 --> 00:01:12.959 a chair that was too big for me, and I 19 00:01:13.040 --> 00:01:15.719 looked at the map on the wall. It was beautiful. 20 00:01:16.040 --> 00:01:20.200 The constellations were drawn in careful ink, with lines connecting 21 00:01:20.239 --> 00:01:25.120 the stars that made them. Orion, the Big Dipper, Cassiopeia, 22 00:01:25.599 --> 00:01:29.120 the Southern Cross. Names I had learned in school, but 23 00:01:29.239 --> 00:01:32.120 had never really understood until I saw them on my 24 00:01:32.200 --> 00:01:35.719 grandfather's map. He pointed to each one and told me 25 00:01:35.760 --> 00:01:39.040 a story. This is the north Star, he said. It 26 00:01:39.239 --> 00:01:43.760 is the most important star in the sky. Every sailor 27 00:01:43.879 --> 00:01:49.920 knows it, every traveler knows it. No matter where you are, 28 00:01:50.799 --> 00:01:54.879 no matter how lost you feel, if you can find 29 00:01:54.920 --> 00:01:58.959 the North Star, you can find your way home. I 30 00:01:59.000 --> 00:02:02.840 looked at the north Star on the map. It was small, 31 00:02:04.000 --> 00:02:07.400 smaller than I expected, but it was marked with a 32 00:02:07.480 --> 00:02:12.680 special symbol, a tiny circle around it, as if to say, 33 00:02:13.520 --> 00:02:18.680 this one matters. I visit my grandfather's house now, though 34 00:02:18.719 --> 00:02:22.759 he is no longer here. The house is old and quiet, 35 00:02:23.639 --> 00:02:27.599 the garden is overgrown. The study is just as he 36 00:02:27.680 --> 00:02:31.159 left it, with the map still on the wall, and 37 00:02:31.240 --> 00:02:34.719 the chair still in the corner, and the pencil still 38 00:02:34.840 --> 00:02:38.120 on the desk, waiting for a hand that will never 39 00:02:38.240 --> 00:02:42.120 pick it up again. But the map is there. I 40 00:02:42.240 --> 00:02:45.080 sit in the chair and look at it, and I 41 00:02:45.159 --> 00:02:49.439 remember the stories he told me, the nights at sea, 42 00:02:50.560 --> 00:02:54.560 the stars above the water, the way the North Star 43 00:02:54.879 --> 00:02:59.159 never moved while all the other stars danced around it 44 00:02:59.199 --> 00:03:03.479 in slow circles through the night. I reach out and 45 00:03:03.599 --> 00:03:08.560 touch the map. The paper is old, it has yellowed 46 00:03:08.599 --> 00:03:13.840 at the edges, the ink has faded in places, but 47 00:03:13.960 --> 00:03:20.360 the stars are still clear, still bright, still exactly where 48 00:03:20.360 --> 00:03:25.319 he drew them. And then something happens. The stars on 49 00:03:25.400 --> 00:03:30.800 the map begin to glow, not much, just a faint light, 50 00:03:31.719 --> 00:03:37.520 like candlelight, like the first hint of dawn. Each star 51 00:03:37.759 --> 00:03:43.719 he drew, each constellation he mapped, each line he connected, 52 00:03:44.599 --> 00:03:49.240 all of it begins to glow with a soft, warm light. 53 00:03:50.319 --> 00:03:55.439 I pull my hand back. The glow continues. It spreads 54 00:03:55.520 --> 00:04:01.919 from star to star, traveling along the lines he connecting 55 00:04:01.960 --> 00:04:06.120 them in a web of light. The map becomes alive. 56 00:04:07.039 --> 00:04:12.960 The constellations shift and pulse, as if breathing, as if 57 00:04:13.000 --> 00:04:16.959 the stars he drew are the real stars and the 58 00:04:17.000 --> 00:04:21.639 paper is just a window. I stand up. The map 59 00:04:21.720 --> 00:04:28.279 grows brighter, and then, slowly, gently, the stars begin to 60 00:04:28.399 --> 00:04:33.319 lift off the paper. They rise, like embers from a fire, 61 00:04:34.079 --> 00:04:40.240 floating upward, drifting toward the ceiling, Tiny points of light, 62 00:04:40.959 --> 00:04:44.639 each one the size of a pin head, each one 63 00:04:44.920 --> 00:04:49.800 carrying a story. My grandfather once told me. They float 64 00:04:50.199 --> 00:04:57.720 and drift and settle into new patterns, new constellations, constellations. 65 00:04:57.800 --> 00:05:02.480 I have never seen before. I watch them. They fill 66 00:05:02.560 --> 00:05:09.240 the room. The ceiling disappears, the walls dissolve, the study, 67 00:05:09.759 --> 00:05:15.000 the chair, the desk, the pencil, All of it fades away. 68 00:05:16.000 --> 00:05:19.040 And I am standing in an open field, under a 69 00:05:19.120 --> 00:05:23.680 sky that stretches from one horizon to the other. The 70 00:05:23.680 --> 00:05:29.879 stars are everywhere, above me, below me, all around me. 71 00:05:30.800 --> 00:05:35.920 Millions of them, billions, each one a tiny point of 72 00:05:36.079 --> 00:05:40.759 light in the vast darkness. They are so close I 73 00:05:40.879 --> 00:05:45.120 feel I could reach up and touch them. So close 74 00:05:45.319 --> 00:05:48.959 I feel I could hold them in my hands. And 75 00:05:49.040 --> 00:05:54.519 among them I see the ones my grandfather drew. There 76 00:05:54.600 --> 00:06:00.160 is the North Star, small and steady, exactly where he 77 00:06:00.199 --> 00:06:04.680 said it would be. There is Orion with his belt 78 00:06:04.800 --> 00:06:09.399 of three stars and his sword hanging below. There is 79 00:06:09.480 --> 00:06:13.879 the Big Dipper, pointing toward the North Star the way 80 00:06:13.920 --> 00:06:18.319 it always does. And there are new ones, constellations. I 81 00:06:18.360 --> 00:06:23.879 do not recognize constellations my grandfather never drew, because he 82 00:06:23.959 --> 00:06:28.000 never saw them. Because they are not for sailors, they 83 00:06:28.000 --> 00:06:32.279 are for dreamers. I walk among the stars. My feet 84 00:06:32.360 --> 00:06:35.199 are on the grass of the field, but my head 85 00:06:35.279 --> 00:06:39.319 is among the constellations. I am both below and above, 86 00:06:40.160 --> 00:06:44.360 both earth and sky. The stars pass by me like 87 00:06:44.480 --> 00:06:49.279 friends on a streak, each one familiar, each one carrying 88 00:06:49.319 --> 00:06:52.480 a memory. I find one that looks like a ship, 89 00:06:53.319 --> 00:06:57.240 my grandfather's ship, perhaps the one he sailed across the 90 00:06:57.319 --> 00:07:02.759 oceans on it hangs in the sky, sails filled with starlight, 91 00:07:03.439 --> 00:07:07.319 heading toward a horizon that never ends. I find one 92 00:07:07.319 --> 00:07:11.720 that looks like a compass. The needle points upward toward 93 00:07:11.759 --> 00:07:16.279 the north Star, always toward the north star, because that 94 00:07:16.439 --> 00:07:19.920 is where home is. I find one that looks like 95 00:07:19.959 --> 00:07:23.199 a man standing on the deck of a ship, looking 96 00:07:23.279 --> 00:07:28.319 up at the sky, my grandfather, young and strong, with 97 00:07:28.439 --> 00:07:31.160 the wind in his hair and the stars in his eyes. 98 00:07:32.160 --> 00:07:35.480 I stand among the constellations, and I feel something I 99 00:07:35.480 --> 00:07:40.199 have not felt in a long time. Connection. I am 100 00:07:40.240 --> 00:07:44.040 connected to the stars. I am connected to the sea. 101 00:07:45.120 --> 00:07:49.480 I am connected to my grandfather, to his stories, to 102 00:07:49.560 --> 00:07:53.040 his map on the wall. I am connected to every 103 00:07:53.160 --> 00:07:56.160 sailor who ever looked up and found their way home. 104 00:07:57.120 --> 00:08:01.920 The stars hold me ah physically, not with hands or arms, 105 00:08:02.600 --> 00:08:07.160 but with light, with presents, with the quiet assurance that 106 00:08:07.240 --> 00:08:10.639 I am not lost, that I have never been lost, 107 00:08:11.360 --> 00:08:14.800 that the stars have always known where I am, and 108 00:08:14.839 --> 00:08:18.279 they will always be there to guide me. I breathe in, 109 00:08:19.360 --> 00:08:23.839 I breathe out. The field is quiet, the sky is 110 00:08:23.879 --> 00:08:27.439 full of light. I lie down on the grass and 111 00:08:27.519 --> 00:08:32.360 look up at the stars. They are so many, so bright, 112 00:08:33.360 --> 00:08:38.200 so close. I could count them forever and never finish. 113 00:08:39.000 --> 00:08:43.159 I do not try. I simply look. I let the 114 00:08:43.240 --> 00:08:47.759 light fill my eyes, my mind, my heart. I let 115 00:08:47.799 --> 00:08:53.960 the constellations tell their stories, old and new, familiar and strange. 116 00:08:54.919 --> 00:08:58.720 I let the North Star guide me, not across an ocean, 117 00:08:59.519 --> 00:09:04.240 but into sleep. The grass is soft beneath me, the 118 00:09:04.279 --> 00:09:09.039 sky is warm above me. The stars are bright around me. 119 00:09:09.919 --> 00:09:14.000 I am home, I am found, I am held by 120 00:09:14.039 --> 00:09:20.200 the stars. My eyes grow heavy, the constellations blur, the 121 00:09:20.320 --> 00:09:25.320 light softens. I close my eyes, and the stars are 122 00:09:25.399 --> 00:09:32.720 still there, glowing behind my eyelids, burning gently, steadily. Forever. 123 00:09:33.960 --> 00:09:37.720 I sleep among the stars, and the stars keep watch.