Space Junk

Empty spaces bother us. We have an insatiable need to fill them.

Empty closets are scary places. Half full closets seem lonely, almost sad. The same goes for rooms, attics, garages, storage sheds and unused land alongside major roadways and intersections. So, we do our best to fill them. We even try to fill up empty time because it too tends to be unnerving, nagging us to intervene and interrupt it. We somehow equate emptiness with incompleteness. We think we need to help emptiness achieve fullness – to be all it can be.

The space that encircles our planet is vast and empty; at least it used to be. Over the past 50 years we have managed to start filling it up as well, to the point that we now need to be concerned about space junk. It would be a real eye sore if we could actually see it from earth without the aid of a telescope. Worse than being unsightly; however, space junk is dangerous because it is orbiting around like speeding bullets and cannon balls.

In February 2009, two satellites collided spreading nearly two tons of debris across a 500 mile area of space above our planet. More collisions are bound to happen as more stuff accumulates and junk begins colliding with other junk. And, there are other things floating around up there, including an astronaut’s glove, camera, garbage bags, and a bunch of spent rocket parts from a variety of space missions. All of the stuff in circulation poses risks to all other platforms and vehicles – including the Hubble Telescope, Space Shuttle missions, the International Space Station (ISS) and the 900+ satellites that are in orbit today.

Our pressing need to fill up empty spaces eventually bumps up against the undeniable reality of capacity. When there is nowhere else to stuff our stuff, it creates a colossal clutter problem. Ironically, similar to emptiness, clutter also draws us and impels us to intervene. It tugs on us and drains us. Clutter gums us up. Like an overtaxed computer, we eventually start to slow down, freeze up or crash. That’s why junk spaces with doors are so popular and windows are not. What we cannot see does not bother us as much. But sometimes there are no doors, and whether it is orbiting space junk or frantic lives without silence, bad consequences eventually result. We get caught up managing our clutter instead of maximizing our best moments.

The U.S. Air Force and NASA have tracking systems capable of monitoring roughly 20,000 of the most dangerous objects (larger than 10cm or 4 inches in diameter). The problem is that even an object as small as one centimeter can destroy a satellite or manned vehicle, due to the incredible orbiting velocities. NASA's Orbital Debris Program Office (yes, there is such an office) estimates there are more than 300,000 such objects (1cm or larger) in orbit right now – and potentially billions of even smaller objects that also pose significant risk. All of this mess has actually spawned new business opportunities. At least two companies have moved into this “opportunity space” by providing the U.S. Air Force with more sophisticated and sensitive databases and systems for tracking orbiting junk. The free market is amazing. So far though, no one seems to be doing anything in the trash collecting arena.

It is time that we adopt a new attitude and perspective about emptiness, and learn to embrace it rather than fill it. I am not talking about relational or spiritual emptiness. Those conditions do require our attention. Instead, I am referring primarily to the emptiness of silence. It is getting crowded out by the noise of constant activity – our “always on” lifestyles that are aided and abetted by technology. Just to be clear, technology is not the source of the problem, we are. We have become stimulation junkies. We need to detox on a periodic basis. Can’t hear yourself think? Having trouble hearing the voice of God? Don’t have time to plan, ponder, relax or dream? There are many ways to cultivate silence but it is not my place to tell you how. Search hard enough and you’ll find it. But first, recognize that silence has a renewing purpose; don’t push it away or try to fill it up. If we are not careful, we will develop a fear of silence, and that would be the greatest tragedy.

We all need to tweak up our radars and pay better attention. If we use up our capacity, we will have no reserves to draw from when we reach our toleration point. I know that many people pride themselves as extraordinary multi-taskers, but everyone with breath has limits. We need to accept that some spaces were meant to be empty. The empty spaces in our lives – the moments of silence – serve a life sustaining purpose and we should not shut the door to them.