THIS ORDINARY STARDUST

A memoir about the family, tragedy, and the spiritual possibilities of radical ecological sensitivity.  

A decade ago, Townsend reveals in this probing memoir, he confronted the gravest of news: Both his wife and daughter had developed brain cancer. In his account of navigating these circumstances, he explains that an understanding of the interconnectedness of all creation, one that bridged strictly rational and religious perspectives, proved salvific for him. Drawing on his own knowledge as an environmental scientist, Townsend juxtaposes descriptions of ecological cycles with his own evolving understanding of loss and grief. A crucial consolation, he reveals, emerged in becoming more aware of the ways in which he and all other humans belong, quite literally, to one another: Since all of us are involved in a perpetual exchange of material elements—“stardust”—we “may well contain some part of every human ever” in the trillions of cells that make up our bodies. In frank and moving terms, the author sets forth how properly reckoning with this truth and its myriad implications prompted a spiritual transformation in him, marked by an urgent awareness of the humble significance of every human life. It also underscored a need to acknowledge the importance of transcending mere materialist thinking: “An evangelistic belief in science as the source of all answers is both limiting and dangerous.” Townsend’s appeals for the broader relevance of his experience are compelling, and his writing drives home, in clear and often heart-wrenching terms, how our understanding of human suffering might benefit from a certain kind of spiritual reframing. This is not a book that provides easy answers to life’s most difficult questions, but one that suggests plausible means of reconceiving our place within a relentlessly fluid universe.

An insightful exploration of loss and the role of intellectual curiosity and spiritual openness in addressing it.