Sometimes in life there are things you just can't know until you experience them. And when you do, you think to yourself, "Why didn't anybody tell me how amazing this was?" But the thing is, they did tell you. You just didn't listen. But you did listen--you weren't plugging your ears or anything. The words entered your brain, and your brain processed their meaning. But you didn't really get it. You couldn't. You just couldn't understand it until you had experienced it for yourself.
If you haven't seen a total solar eclipse for yourself, I'll add my voice to others who have said the same thing: It's REALLY COOL! I wouldn't go so far as to say I'm a different person now, but I'm really glad I didn't die without seeing one. You know? No, you don't. I didn't either.
I'm going to try to explain what it was like, not because that is possible but because I can't move on with my life until I've recorded my thoughts about it all. The word I keep using to describe it is visceral: relating to deep inward feelings rather than to the intellect. I couldn't not be mentally present for it. It demanded my attention and respect. But it was also so joyful somehow. I found myself crying and feeling so happy that Aaron and my kids were with me. I just felt really there for those four minutes. Wonder and awe and excitement and love and pure joy all at once. It was truly magnificent, and I was just so grateful to be a part of it.
Okay, so my intellect sort of took a backseat during the actual eclipse, which was good. But I've been thinking a lot about it since then. Here are some intellectual and spiritual observations:
My friend in College Station had 98% totality, and I was like, "Oh,
that's pretty good. So you'll basically see it." Wrong. 99.99% totality
is completely different from totality. It's like a light switch. Light is powerful. Even a tiny sliver of it can make the difference between night and day in your life. This makes me think of my experience with God--when I give him even the tiniest opening or invitation to work in my life, he can do miraculous things with it. So let the light in! Even if you can only handle a little bit of it for now.
But you could also flip that metaphor and think that a 99% eclipse is plenty of light to live by, so why seek more light? You may not realize how dim things are getting as you slowly are eclipsed by light-blocking influences. But there is a lot more light and goodness to be had, so don't just be satisfied with the little sliver of light you have right now.
I couldn't help but think that the feeling I had during totality might be closer than anything else I've experienced to what I will feel when Christ comes again. Or to what the Nephites felt when they saw Christ descending out of heaven. Total awe, total presence. A visceral experience of wonder. I've been thinking of the scripture, "Every knee shall bow and every tongue confess that Jesus is the Christ." I can more easily imagine how that would go and how it would be spontaneous--not something forced or commanded. It would just well up from the experience itself. An urge to kneel, an impulse to declare that this being is the Creator of worlds. I don't think we'll be able to deny it, ignore it, or pretend it away. It will be so obvious, so real, so visceral that there won't be any argument.
Now let's talk about how we almost didn't see the eclipse!
Clouds! The forecast was terrible for Texas's band of totality. There were some places 5-7 hours away that had a better visibility. My attitude (pre-experiencing totality for myself) was to shrug and say better luck next time. But Aaron was a little more determined to see it. And somehow we got the gumption (the four of us plus Aaron's old friend/lab mate Derrall) to drive the five hours. We assumed that traffic would be terrible, so we planned to wake up at 5 am the next morning.
But the next morning, the forecast was better, not for Round Rock but for a city only a couple of hours away. So we changed plans again and headed for Meridian, TX. Traffic was a non-issue. We sailed up there no problem. Actually, there was one problem. Aaron got pulled over for going eleven mph over the speed limit. And his driver's license was expired! But the cop was in a good mood. We only got a warning.
We got to Meridian at 9:30 am. Found a parking spot and a park, no problem. And we waited. We brought Charles Bingley. He was barking at every new thing. So we got some good training in. He calmed down after a little while and then was a perfect little angel. Nothing phased him once he settled in.
So we were there with Derrall. And then the Shirts family and the Williams family also came up from Round Rock. They didn't arrive until 12:30, but also reported that traffic was clear. There was a basketball court at the park, so the kids played and had a great time. Clouds covered the sun periodically, but overall the weather was clear and hopeful.
By the time of totality, no clouds threatened our visibility. It was perfect! We got to see it all really well. Looking at the eclipsed sun without glasses was awesome. The light was bluish white instead of orange, and it looked alive--moving and flaring. Very cool! I didn't have a good enough camera to take pictures of the sun, but it's cool to see how dark it got in these pictures which were taken at 1:37 in the afternoon.
Luckily, everyone in Round Rock also got to see the eclipse. The clouds parted just in time!
As previously mentioned, we had lots of family and friends around. John and Julie and William and Heather were also in Texas, though they watched the eclipse near Dallas. But they came down for a few days after. It was really fun! We played chair soccer and went kayaking and did a campfire while the Shirtses were here. And we also hiked and went to Rudy's and Andy's and watched movies and had amazing butter chicken made by William and Heather. Heather also bought a bunch of Creamy Creations flavors from HEB. We had ice cream every night for about four nights.
I just checked the total solar eclipse schedule. 2026 Spain, 2044 Montana. Those are our nearest choices calendar-wise and distance-wise. Not as easy to get to, but I'm considering it. I missed 2017, even though it went through a city one hour from my hometown. Why didn't I go?? I just didn't know. But now I know! I'm glad I didn't miss 2024.
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