R and S were in love. No two beings in the history of the Cosmos had ever been as in love as they were; they were certain of it. They were so in love that they spent all of their time dancing with each other and shining brightly for each other. Since they were stars, they quite excelled at shining.
As they danced past wise Mother Earth, she called, “Spend time with other loved ones, R and S! No two beings can – or should – be everything to each other. You will lose sight of the Cosmos around you.”
As they danced past sweet Sister Comet, she called, “Explore other passions, R and S! No two beings can – or should – be everything to each other. You will lose sight of the Cosmos around you.”
But R and S cared nothing for other loved ones or other passions. They ignored invitations from planets they passed, and they didn’t even look at other stars, asteroids, and nebulae around them. They cared only for dancing, spinning around and around each other, and for shining at each other, so brightly that most other folks couldn’t even look at them.
One day, R said, “I feel a curious pull in this direction.”
“That’s nothing to do with us,” said S. “Dance on!” So they did.
Some days later, as these things go, S said, “I feel a strange push in that direction.”
“It’s nothing to do with us,” R said. “Dance on!” So they did.
Some days after that, as these things go, S said, “R, my love, you seem to be pulling away from me.”
R replied, “S, my only, you seem to be rushing away from me!”
For the first time, they looked around outside themselves and saw that they had come too close to the great black hole at the heart of the galaxy. “We will be sucked in!” R cried.
But the truth was much worse than that. For while R was, indeed, being pulled into the black hole, S had been just far enough away in their dance to be flung outward at unfathomable speeds, as though from a giant slingshot.
“My love,” S cried, speeding away, “how I will miss you! Dance on!”
“My only,” R called, sinking fast, “how I will long for you! Dance on!”
Other beings made a fuss over S – the first star ever to leave the Milky Way. “Such sights you will see,” they said. And amazing sights there were – but S cared nothing for them without R.
Other beings made a fuss over R, as well. “There’s not many as get to know what the inside of a black hole is like. Such an adventurer you’ll be,” they said. And such an adventurer R was – but none of it mattered without S.
Yet what could they do but dance on?
***






Beautiful. Our ancestors put their understanding of the natural world into stories – we should do the same.
Thank you, John. This is my big, ambitious plan: a science-based mythos for our times.
Y’know. Just a little thing.
Can’t believe this story had me tearing up a bit! What a sweet piece.
Thank you, Ali! That’s high praise, indeed.
I’ve been saving that press release for years, trying to figure out what to “do” with it, and I’m so glad that the opportunity for the perfect answer finally presented itself.
Every time I read it or do any work with it, I give my wife a very fierce hug and say, “Please don’t get shot out of the galaxy.”
It actually reminds me a lot of Jonathan Coulton’s song, “I’m Your Moon” (inspired by scientists downgrading Pluto from a planet). It’s both silly and sweet, and Jeff and I played it at our wedding reception. You can download the mp3 for free from Coulton’s website here.
In fact, I’m totally going to go listen to that song again now!
Oh, that’s a sweet song. Thanks for sharing it. What a great song for a wedding reception!
Aww! So sweet! And a science-based mythos – most awesome! I read someone on Wild Hunt calling themselves ‘an atheist pagan’ – similar?
Thank you, John. My plan is to build up this science-based mythos – along with the whos, whats, wheres, whens, whys, and hows behind it – in this column in the coming months.
And “atheist pagan” is very similar. I prefer “naturalistic pagan” as my personal label, as I would rather define myself by what I *do* believe and reverence, rather than what I don’t, but at base, the worldview is pretty similar.
Very beautiful. Without knowing much about physics, someone could still become interested in astronomy if stories of this type were told more often. Thanks for sharing!
Jess, your comment has made my evening! I’m just telling these stories to present another view of the world and of myth, but if ever even a single person were to become more interested in exploring the science behind them, I would consider that an act of service and gratitude to the Cosmos. Thank you
So sad, but appropriately beautiful!
Thank you much, Lupa.
Ditto, what everyone has said above!
I’m really enjoying reading your writing, and have been meaning to say congratulations for awhile now!
Thank you, April. Glad to see you here!
I enjoyed this story so much that when I was feeling poetic today, it popped to mind. Stars In Love: bitly.com/sSdWta
Jess! That’s phenomenal. Thanks for sharing this with us. Ah, the glorious interplay of science and art – it’s a beautiful thing.