Commentary

Astronaut lessons

April 16, 2026   ·   0 Comments

By Constance Scrafield

Humans who travel into space say it is the most stunning, life-changing, extraordinary experience of their lives. It appears that every astronaut who has ever been in space longs to return, where their bones can just put up with weightlessness. As they watch the unforgettable sights of the earth from such great distances, calling it “beautiful, precious, vulnerable,” snapping pictures, as many as they can while knowing that no one else, no one who has never experienced it, can know – these photos barely express the thrill of actually being in truly outer space.

Even extending to the high price of space tourism, which offers the experience of weightlessness (just undo your buckle) at anywhere from 100 to 1,400 miles from earth, the usual seems to be about 300 miles, cannot really compare to the rigours and truth of multiple days and more in space.

The travellers in the Artemis II achieved a distance from Earth of 248,655 miles (400171.432 kilometres) on their path in the sky, and their photos may well win all the prizes. When they re-entered Earth’s atmosphere, the nose of their vehicle terrifyingly blazing to experience the splashdown in the Pacific Ocean, in spite of the confidence they had in their engineers and scientists who were sure they had fixed the fatal failings of Artemis I, each of them must have whispered their personal gratitude for the successful return to Earth.

But what did each of them bring back? Once their minds had truly settled on the reality of where they had been – namely, the furthest from earth than any other humans have travelled – at their soul level, what does it mean to them as individuals?

What will they tell their grandchildren? How will they convey who they are now to their life partners?

Recently, the CBC played an interview with Artemis II Commander Reid Wiseman and the New York Times about the conversation he had with his two teenage daughters. A widower and single parent, Wiseman relayed the heavy discussion with his daughters about the dangers and possibilities of his dying during this first experimental trip around the dark side of the moon.

He told them where his will and trust documents are located, saying, “If anything happens to me, this is what will happen to you.” He talked about the inevitability of death each of us faces on some level, at various times in our lives – their own mother having died of cancer in 2020. He reassured them that he felt the importance of this mission was a tremendous honour. He was sure it was worth the risk.

His daughters backed their father all the way.

That splashdown at the end of the successful ten-day flight, seeing their father safely home, must be a lifetime memory for those two girls. On the most personal level, this is part of Wiseman’s legacy to his children.

Gives us all pause to think. Not only those of us who are parents or guardians of children, but also given the broad concept of legacy as meaning life lessons and the experiences in which we were with them at the time, but in a more general sense, the legacies we leave in the big picture of the world around us.

The Artemis II flight had a specific purpose: to prove what it takes to get to the moon and what it will take to colonize (and that is the word that is used) the moon, with plans to create permanent habitats with a judicious telescope to scan for what might crash where and on the moon, potentially causing craters.

All this work is as a stepping stone to landing on moon-sized rocks and indeed, planets much, much further away. Without a single blush, I readily admit to being a Trekkie, right from the early, surprisingly short run television series to the six original movies, Voyager – almost all of it.

So, the irresistible call of space is clear, impossible to ignore. Yet we are still calling the ambition “colonizing” when, in fact, even if hidden, the understanding must be that there are so many reasons to expect to find other lives if we travel far enough.

Here we are, back to our legacy. It could be that the Artemis II success is a turning point, a serious time to reflect, looking around us with honest eyes, at what legacy we humans are leaving for all who follow us.

Ambition and skill, but without reason? Wayward governance for the land and all who live upon it? Shall we continue on the course of the destruction of this beautiful, spinning, perfect planet, run to ruin by leaders, for whom an eternity of blood and battle is their preferred policy?

Stephen Hawking told us to get off Earth if we want to survive. Really, it is too late for that. Space is too hard for such a schedule.

All we can do is scramble and make the sacrifice of an easy life for as long as it takes to stop and restart our legacy.

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