Chapter 1: A New Perspective

While this may not seem like a narrative centered on space exploration, the reflections it contains hold significant importance.

As I stroll through Ottawa, where I’ve spent the last couple of months preparing for my next adventure, the weather has turned chilly, with a light dusting of snow falling softly around me. Just a week ago, I found myself chuckling at the notion of paying $9 for a bowl of oatmeal at a trendy café. Yet, here I am, a self-proclaimed hipster in a beanie, surrounded by ink and piercings, frequenting this café daily. What changed my mind was their thoughtful gesture of offering free oatmeal to anyone in need, no strings attached.

I often find myself in this café, either sipping their delightful orange blossom mocha or indulging in that extravagant bowl of oatmeal, though I must monitor my spending until I secure a steady income. A more pragmatic viewpoint might suggest that my daily indulgence should be the coffee, rather than the oatmeal.

Before I head out, I revisit author John Green’s yearly recitation of his interpretation of the song "Auld Lang Syne" from his book The Anthropocene Reviewed. This annual tradition has always stirred deep emotions within me, culminating in tears during the final refrain:

We’re here

Because we’re here

Because we’re here

Because we’re here.

Each year, his words resonate differently, even as the melody remains unchanged. This time, it struck me how uniquely art can evoke emotions. While data can inform, it lacks the power to move us in the same profound way. Even when gazing at stunning images from the James Webb Space Telescope, it’s the underlying beauty that captivates us, far beyond mere pixels.

In my 15-year career as a scientist specializing in imaging for rovers and satellites, I’ve often argued that “images are data.” However, not all scientists share this view; many see data as cold numbers and charts, failing to appreciate the emotive strength of an image. Images transcend mere data; they have the potential to connect with human emotions and inspire action.

This realization deepened my desire to engage in creative endeavors that truly resonate with others, rather than communicate through academic papers. Earlier this year, after leaving my position in Washington, DC, I embarked on a self-imposed break from the space industry, motivated by a toxic work environment that had taken a toll on my well-being. I needed time to reflect on whether this field was worth my energy and if I could contribute to positive change in an industry that often resists transformation.

As I shared my story, many others reached out, sharing their own experiences of similar struggles. While it was comforting to connect with others, it was disheartening to witness the widespread impact on marginalized individuals at various career stages.

During this period of reflection, I also stepped back from digital life and reconnected with my passion for film photography. Each day, I would select a camera that called to me and wander through the Pike Place Market, greeting vendors before the tourist crowds arrived. One of my favorite stops became Ghost Alley Espresso, where I would chat with Mike, the owner, who soon offered me a discount due to my frequent visits.

One morning, as I walked through “The Arcade” of the Market, a vendor inquired about my camera. We struck up a conversation, and he shared his journey from an engineering graduate to a woodworker after deciding that his original career path wasn’t for him. He mentioned that his brother had pursued a career at NASA studying fire dynamics for the space station. It felt like a sign as I grappled with my own decision to leave the space sector in pursuit of more creative outlets.

His encouragement to pursue creativity—“If you do creative things, you will never regret a day of your life”—stuck with me. Our conversation meandered through topics like community resilience during the pandemic, and I left with one of his wooden sculptures, a tangible reminder of our exchange.

After our interaction, I found myself wanting to focus on human stories and connections. As an introvert, this was a shift, but I began to ask baristas about their lives, discovering shared experiences and insights. Seattle has evolved, and conversations often revolved around how the city has changed over time.

I embraced the opportunity to reconnect with friends and explore new communities, especially within the queer community, where I found a deeper connection to my identity.

One day, I chatted with a Pilates instructor who embodied the essence of wellness. We bonded over my “Canadian as Fuck” shirt, and our shared background. She spoke about her email routines, inspiring me to contemplate a life less tethered to technology.

As I navigated the complexities of my journey, the question arose: If I am increasingly drawn to creativity, movement, and digital disconnection for my happiness, why am I simultaneously crafting a new role in the space sector that contradicts these lessons?

The three key lessons I aimed to carry forward were:

1. Prioritize health through nutrition and exercise.
2. Avoid a life consumed by Zoom calls.
3. Cherish meaningful relationships.

However, as I transitioned to a nomadic lifestyle to launch a new venture, I found myself straying from these principles. My health habits have faltered, my connections with friends have become less frequent, and the routines I cherished in Seattle feel distant.

As I reflect on my path, I hear my grandfather’s words: “If I keep moving, the Grim Reaper can’t catch me.” Movement symbolizes a journey away from my past, towards a future yet to be written. Perhaps this new chapter will bridge my scientific background with my creative aspirations.

Despite everything, my passion for the space sector remains, as I hope to contribute positively for those who come after me. Creativity is essential to keep my spirit alive.

As we approach 2024, I hope to share more of my journey and consider writing a book about the lessons learned during this pause in life. If you would be interested in reading such a work, please let me know. Even if there’s no interest, I may embark on this writing journey for my own sake. Thank you for taking the time to read this; it means a lot to me. May the coming year bring you clarity, strength, and the motivation to forge ahead.

Chapter 2: A Year of Space Exploration?

In our ever-evolving world, 2023 is poised to be a landmark year for space exploration, with numerous missions and advancements on the horizon.

This video discusses the unprecedented opportunities and challenges that lie ahead in the realm of space exploration.

Chapter 3: Human Habitats on Mars

The concept of creating sustainable habitats for humans on Mars has gained traction, reflecting the ambitious vision for future interplanetary life.

This seminar delves into the innovative ideas and technologies that could make human life on Mars a reality.