“Orbital” Mussar

Reading Samantha Harvey’s novel “Orbital,” I discovered a number of Mussar lessons. The winner of the Booker Prize for Fiction, the book is about a day in the life of six astronauts on the International Space Station. While they circle the earth, the scientists reflect on everything from the mundane, like measuring heart rate and taking urine samples, to the profound – the meaning of life, the mystery of our beautiful Earth and the unknowable universe.

Floating in space like sardines packed tightly in a tin can, the astronauts have to labor daily to fight off a feeling of confinement. Though captive in a cramped space, they peer through the craft’s windows to marvel at the Earth and the expansive universe beyond. The sharp polarities bring a calming perspective, a key to the middah (soul trait) of equanimity.

It reminded me of feeling claustrophobic when encumbered with scuba mask, oxygen tank and tight skins as I did my first dive trip in the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. I overcame my fear by focusing on the seemingly endless ocean filled with coral reefs, sharks, rays and a vast variety of fish.

By changing perspective, I, like the astronauts in “Orbital,” was able to appreciate the infinite beauty around me rather than focusing on the discomfort caused by my sense of confinement.

When the novel’s protagonists are troubled by the physical effects of zero gravity, they find solace in the humbling opportunity to view their earthly home as few ever will get to see it.

If I am unsettled by a seemingly unsolvable personal problem, I walk to a serene spot in my neighborhood where I can observe Pikes Peak through the trees, and I recite the Shema prayer. By looking at the mountaintop while taking deep breaths and praying, I am more able to put my “cramped spaces” in perspective.

The enormity of their surroundings also causes the book’s astronauts to acknowledge both the significance and insignificance of human existence. “Our lives here are inexpressibly trivial and momentous at once…. Both repetitive and precedented. We matter greatly and not at all.”  

The polarity between mattering “greatly and not at all” is reminiscent of a Mussar teaching on balancing the middot (soul traits) of pride and humility. It is said that Reb Simcha Bunem, an 18th century Hasidic rabbi, carried two slips of paper, one in each pocket. One was inscribed with the saying from the Talmud, “For my sake the world was created.” On the other he wrote a phrase from Avraham, “I am but dust and ashes.” He would extract and read the appropriate note for the circumstance in which he found himself.

I have found that story useful when thinking about my role in different situations. For example, when a friend is sharing a problem, I consider whether they want an empathetic listener or are requesting advice. When participating in a board meeting, I think about whether I have useful feedback to offer or I can actively engage by giving full attention to the ideas of others.

Another concept explored in the novel, connectedness, comforts me in these times when there is so much strife and division among and within nations. “Orbital’s” characters note that from space, there are no visible boundaries between nations, no border lines distinguishing one country from another.  “Continents and countries come one after the other and the earth feels – not small, but almost endlessly connected, an epic poem of flowing verses.”   

Harvey writes, “If you could get far enough away from the earth you’d be able finally to understand it – to see it with your own eyes as an object, a small blue dot, a cosmic and mysterious thing. Not to understand its mystery, but to understand that it is mysterious.”

What if I applied that philosophy to my own life, to appreciate that it is mysterious and that I cannot always understand why things happen, but can learn to appreciate the mystery in them?

Through Harvey’s powerful writing, I garnered lessons from “Orbital” about equanimity, perspective, balancing polarities, pride, humility and connectedness. They will continue to play a role in my Mussar practice as a fictional ride in space informs my mysterious, magical journey on Earth.