When I look at the night sky, I also see darkness, and scattered throughout that darkness are tiny dots of bright light, as if they are holes punctured into a black canvas allowing the light from the other side to peer through. But looking up at the night sky is less about what we see and more about what we think and feel. When I look up, I see forever — I see eternity staring right back at me, and I feel calm and scared at the same time. When I look up I wonder how the universe came to be. Was it created by a higher power, or was it the product of the Big Bang? If so, where did this higher power come from, or what existed before the Big Bang? Both are miraculous, either way. I look up and I wonder where at in all of this expanse do we live and why do we even live at all? I wonder why I am alive at this moment rather than another. I think about all the people who existed before me and those whose will exist after me. I wonder how long the Earth will be around. I wonder about the people who will be alive when the end comes. There are so many thoughts and feelings that enter my being when I stare at the night sky. When Van Gogh painted Starry Night, he wasn’t painting what he saw, but rather what he thought and felt as he stared off into eternity.