Stellar Evolution

Two thousand years from now, every person alive will have 200 atoms of Britney Spears.

All of the atoms in our bodies were likely forged in the fusion furnaces of stars now long gone.

Well I would imagine that some of the hydrogen in our bodies might very well be original material since hydrogen, helium and a smattering of deuterium were there before stellar formation according to the things I have read about those early days.
As far as eternity through though atoms which composed us during our lifetimes, perhaps that also might be left unrealized if, as some predict, even protons decay eventually.
Because of these issues of impermanence I have tried to get away from referring to people as human beings. To me that word implies a stasis which none of us possess. Instead I think that we should be referred to as a human process because constant change is our nature. With each breath we exchange molecules with the environment swapping old for new.

Beautiful summation of natural spirituality and my feelings exactly. Of course I don't want to die, but I realize that it's part of the cycle of life. I gave up the absurd notion of an afterlife long ago. However, I do take comfort knowing that my atoms and molecules will be star dust again one day. This natural process means that we are all eternal in a sense.

Your post reminds me of an essay by Neil deGrasse Tyson.

Does the Universe Have a Purpose?

Not Sure.

Anyone who expresses a more definitive response to the question is claiming access to knowledge not based on empirical foundations. This remarkably persistent way of thinking, common to most religions and some branches of philosophy, has failed badly in past efforts to understand, and thereby predict the operations of the universe and our place within it.

To assert that the universe has a purpose implies the universe has intent. And intent implies a desired outcome. But who would do the desiring? And what would a desired outcome be? That carbon-based life is inevitable? Or that sentient primates are life's neurological pinnacle? Are answers to these questions even possible without expressing a profound bias of human sentiment? Of course humans were not around to ask these questions for 99.9999% of cosmic history. So if the purpose of the universe was to create humans then the cosmos was embarrassingly inefficient about it.

And if a further purpose of the universe was to create a fertile cradle for life, then our cosmic environment has got an odd way of showing it. Life on Earth, during more than 3.5 billion years of existence, has been persistently assaulted by natural sources of mayhem, death, and destruction. Ecological devastation exacted by volcanoes, climate change, earthquakes, tsunamis, storms, pestilence, and especially killer asteroids have left extinct 99.9% of all species that have ever lived here.

How about human life itself? If you are religious, you might declare that the purpose of life is to serve God. But if you're one of the 100 billion bacteria living and working in a single centimeter of our lower intestine (rivaling, by the way, the total number of humans who have ever been born) you would give an entirely different answer. You might instead say that the purpose of human life is to provide you with a dark, but idyllic, anaerobic habitat of fecal matter.

So in the absence of human hubris, and after we filter out the delusional assessments it promotes within us, the universe looks more and more random. Whenever events that are purported to occur in our best interest are as numerous as other events that would just as soon kill us, then intent is hard, if not impossible, to assert. So while I cannot claim to know for sure whether or not the universe has a purpose, the case against it is strong, and visible to anyone who sees the universe as it is rather than as they wish it to be.

(Neil deGrasse Tyson is an astrophysicist and the Director of New York City's Hayden Planetarium.)

I am amazed at how an evil, baby-eating atheist such as yourself can write a truly moving, almost spiritual (in fact I think it IS spiritual) mini-essay such as that one. :-)

My father was in an accident when I was 9 and his once brilliant mind deteriorated for the 25 years he remained on this earth, paralyzed and barely intelligible -- which mustve been frustrating for him. It was hell for me growing up having to go through puberty with a father who acted more and more like a spoiled brat, but Im glad he lasted long enough for me to care for him when I finally matured (Im assuming I matured).

All the best to you.

Not to belabor the point but this is apropos, I'll wager. I wrote a poem the other night with the intent of sending it to my two young grandsons. Maybe you will find it enjoyable. Possibly comforting. I do.

Every single atom
In all we see and know
Was forged in hearts of stars
Born so long ago.
Upon the deaths
Of those old stars
They kindly left behind
All the stuff that now makes up
Your behind and mine.

grin

Dammit, Jim.
I am moved by this.

Years ago I cared for an elderly alcoholic whose father delivered my step-dad.
For a while, I had to clean his shitty sheets and feed him by hand.

The day he died he was in a hospital bed, uneasy and feeling disconnected. When I walked in he brightened, smiled, and said, "Would you mix me a little drink?" while pointing to the kitchen. Or where the kitchen would have been had he been at home in his own bed. At that moment he went into a seizure of some kind and I was crowded out of the room by the hospital staff. John died within the hour. His last request was to me. To mix him a drink.

Had there been the ingredients, I would have done so happily.

Funny how we indulge those at the end of their lives similarly to how we indulge those who are just beginning theirs. Full circle. And the kindness of godless heathens is as sweet as the angel's, as encompassing as the sky-god and as beautiful as, as . . . I dunno. But you get what I mean.

Courage.

Ever since Sir Arthur Eddington sorted out the hydrogen fusion theory of star fuel, which lead to the understanding of how the elements are created, there has been a growing awareness that we are, quite literally, the stuff of stars. All of the atoms in our bodies were likely forged in the fusion furnaces of stars now long gone.

...

And one day our own sun will change from a hydrogen-fusing star to a helium-fusing star, if only for a little while. It will likely swell up into being a red giant, and when it does it will consume Earth, or atomize it and blast it into space.

Some time ago someone on a list I'm on asked 'what comforts atheists?' My answer was what you've written: When I look at the night sky I see stars and am reminded that what I'm made of came from stars. And after I die, when the sun itself finally dies, what I'm made of will go back to the stars. One can't get more connected to the universe.

What you describe isn't exactly what I'm going through. My mother's vanishing memories don't seem to have any pattern at all. She calls me by name some days but doesn't make the connection to my being her son. Married to my father for 60 years, she has no memory of him at all. When she wonders where her husband is, and I tell her that he died, her answer is always "not that one...the other one."

She hasn't spoken in total gibberish yet, but most of what she says is complete sentences makes no real time or life sense.

We ARE indeed made of star stuff. But ONLY star stuff; no woo. I invite anybody to stay with my mommy dearest for a day and tell me that her soul is broken. It's brain chemistry run amuck, nothing more or less. I'm lucky in that she isn't combative or scared most of the time. She's actually a much sweeter old lady now than when she knew who she was. I do wish I had another person to take the burden more often. There are so many old people in Schenectady county that I'm on a waiting list for any professional help. My brother has stepped up, but putting her to bed, getting her up and feeding her is all on me. I'm beginning to think she'll outlive me. At least she wouldn't miss me.