Written By Yuri Andrei B. Morrison | April 20, 2026
The sky’s descent: A Stellar Experience on Bedan grounds
“Please, I’m a staaarrrrr!” That’s probably what Jupiter would’ve said with how brightly it burned, or rather reflected light, that night— though it still couldn’t out-twinkle my homie Polaris. (Yes, stars twinkle, planets don’t)
Last April 11, EUREKA hosted its annual overnight stargazing event for a cause. Attendees came from various programs, with some even from the Senior High School Department, all welcoming the evening with a seminar by Prof. Doods Perea. Alongside the seminar was an exhibit of moon sightings and space rocket scale models organized by the Skywatchers Society of Las Pinas (SSLP).
A Cosmic Introspection
Led by Prof. Perea, we delved into what it truly means to have a "cosmic perspective". He took Bedans on a trip back to the days when stars weren't just for aesthetic night skies, but also served as crucial timekeepers for farming, reliable navigators, and cultural storyboards. The real introspection started when he hit us with the sheer scale of things. Earth feels huge, but when you realize our Moon sits a staggering 384,400 kilometers away, it makes you realize just how tiny our blue pea of a planet truly is.
Then came the heavy hitters—what he jokingly called the universe's "UNC status" and some very hard-to-drink tea. While humanity has been around for only 300,000 years, the universe has been chilling for roughly 13.8 billion years. Sir Doods didn't hold back on the reality checks, either, reminding us that we aren't the center of the universe, we aren't the first things in it, and our own Sun will eventually bow out.
But before anyone could spiral into a collective existential crisis, he dropped the ultimate plot twist: we are literally made of the remains of stars. Gaining a cosmic perspective isn't meant to make us feel small and insignificant; rather, it's a profound reminder to keep our egos in check. It's a call to be better Bedans, practicing genuine compassion and living out Ora et Labora, not out of mere compliance, but from the goodness within us all. In the grand scheme of the cosmos, being small really shouldn't matter.
The Anatomy of an Overnight
The night wasn’t just about the heavy academic lifting; it was about the experience of the wait. Participants were treated to a rare celestial opening as a "red moon" hung low in the early dark, a striking visual prelude to the telescope viewings that followed. According to Sir Doods, while the scientific community has specific scales and ratings to measure sky clarity—determining exactly how "transparent" the atmosphere is—the local reality is much more binary. In his words, "If you see the stars, you see them; if you don’t, you don’t." Fortunately for the Bedan community, the universe decided to show up that night. For some students, the experience didn’t end when the telescopes dimmed—some stayed, camping out until morning, choosing to sit with the sky a little longer.
The Stalwarts of the Sky
Amidst the rows of telescopes stood Prof. Jun Cajigal, a veteran of these nocturnal gatherings and member of the SSLP. For Sir Jun, the beauty of the event lies in its repetition. He reflected on the nature of recurrent stargazing, noting that while the constellations themselves don't change much between sessions, the effect they have on the observer is constant. It acts as a necessary humble brag for the soul, a ritual that keeps arrogance at bay and grounds us in our shared humanity.
For the first-time stargazers in the crowd, the experience was a jarring, yet warming reality check. There is an inherent discomfort in feeling small, yet there’s an undeniable "main character" energy found in finally understanding our place in the vastness. It turns out that realizing you aren’t the center of the universe is actually the first step toward truly belonging to it.
Beyond the Horizon
Sir Doods concluded the session by tackling the "hard-to-drink tea" of our cosmic reality: the fact that we aren't the first to exist, and that our own Sun will eventually bow out. But the closing note wasn't one of despair. He brought it back to the Serbian proverb: "Be humble, for you are made of earth. Be noble, for you are made of stars."
Ultimately, the cosmic perspective shouldn’t leave us feeling smaller than we are, but to remind us that in the vastness of space, we are here, right now, experiencing life as it is; what it could be is ours to make, because from what we know, our pale blue planet is the only one with it. In the grand scheme of the cosmos, being small really shouldn't matter when you’re part of something as big as us. Clear skies, Bedans.
Volume 31 | Issue 10
