Space and Zen: Lessons from Artemis II for the Modern Motorcyclist

Just days ago, on April 10th, 2026, the world watched as the crew of the Artemis II spacecraft splashed down in the Pacific. Four astronauts, Reed Wiseman, Victor Glover, Christina Koch, and Jeremy Hansen, returned from a journey that took them around the far side of the moon. They saw a place that no human eyes had ever seen before. And they had traveled further from Earth than anyone in history. Wow. Welcome to the Peace Love Moto podcast.

And what struck me most is what the astronauts said in interviews this past week since returning home. What they each had to say about their very personal, overwhelming experience was really interesting. They talked about the vastness of space for sure, but you know what they seem to be focused on? How wonderfully made our planet Earth is. They each described how they had been changed by what they saw from above, looking down at us here on our beautiful planet Earth. You know, maybe as things progress in the future, more and more people will have the opportunity to see that same view for themselves. And maybe they too will return home changed. As for me and you today, maybe we don't need a billion-dollar rocket to find that feeling. To have our own overwhelming personal experience like the astronauts had. Listen to how a mission specialist Christina Koch described the view of the world from the deep blackness of space. She said, What struck me wasn't necessarily just Earth, it was the blackness all around it. Earth, you see, was just this lifeboat hanging undisturbingly in the universe. Yeah, I like that. Maybe when you're riding along an endless stretch of road where you've never been before, or arriving to catch the first glimpse of the ocean after a long

Well, I think I was changed when I was a kid on a family vacation trip. Yeah, I've shared it many times about the impact of getting a mini bike when I was 11 years old, but even before that, my parents took my sister and I to see Colorado. I'll never forget that. And then later, as a teenager, coming back to the Rocky Mountains on church ski trips, seeing the world from the high snowy slopes for the very first time, from a chairlift, from a swaying chairlift that scared me to death. Well, still, that was really impactful. Then about 30 years ago, moving here to Colorado and experiencing the American West by motorcycle. Yeah, there's something magical about the vast, huge spaces. So now, as a retired old guy with a lot of time on my hands and without the pressure of business travel and commitments that I used to have, I've had time to reassess how much I love our mom, our mom Mother Nature, and our planet Earth. I especially see that so clearly from the seat of a motorcycle riding the western U.S. and sometimes into Canada.

It's a powerful shift in perspective, isn't it? What those astronauts experienced. We usually think of ourselves as just residents on a planet. But from the spaceship, they saw us as passengers traveling through space just like they were. And our ship was called Earth. The astronauts shared that to see Earth as a quote lifeboat implies also that we have a job to do to keep her afloat. To keep it a safe place to live. Given the present wars and threats to human life and to mother nature, I think a lot about that now. I guess mileage-wise, I've spent most of my motorcycling miles riding in the American West, where many roads stretch out as far as you can see. I was out today and saw just that. I'm thinking of Western Colorado, New Mexico, Utah, Wyoming, Nevada, and Arizona. We've talked about it many times on this podcast, or I have, I suppose, but when you ride into such wide open spaces, I experience a moving meditation. I did just this afternoon. This Zen mindfulness experience where all is right in the world for at least a little while. And on a motorcycle, the crew, as the astronauts described, is just you and your machine. And that ship is the road beneath you and the views all around you. And like the Artemis astronauts, a rider in the desert, for example, feels the same sense of being a small part in a very, very large mystery. You aren't looking at the world through a window, you're in it out on a motorcycle. And this vastness, is that the right word? I think so. It changes your worldview, at least for a little while, by stripping away the self. You're not in an office. You're not an office worker or a person working on their bills or their to-do list. You're a small point of motion in a silent, massive landscape. Nothing more, nothing less. As motorcycle riders, I think we have much more in common with the astronauts' experience than we might imagine. The motorcycle rider finds the same reverence in the full immersion experience of riding, for one. Many of us find that elusive peace of mind by not looking down from above in our case, but by realizing how tiny we are against the backdrop of Mother Nature, and that we can just thrive in her arms. Riding out into the country, maybe across a desert, maybe seeing a storm off in the distance, maybe riding right through it. All of that is full immersion, and it gives us a sense of awe. Isn't Mother Nature and the earth that we reside on just amazing?

And aren't we blessed just to be alive? Maybe you're like me, and every once in a while, with all the complexities of life and all of its stresses, maybe you just need a little grounding meditation, a little ride down a lonely road to make you feel better. Like a long ride with no plan in mind at all. Maybe that's what we need. We all need a little time to have no plan in our lives. A little time for wonder. Maybe we need a little more time at night to look up at the stars, or to ride a little bit further than we normally do until we remember that we're all on this journey together in this wonderfully made planet called Earth. As for us, we are a motorcycling family, you and I. We are brothers and sisters on bikes, giving those we've never met before a biker wave saying hello, hoping you have a safe journey. And we're waiting for what's around the next spin in the road. And that, my friends, is something to be, yeah, very, very grateful for. As always, thanks for listening. Hey, go for a ride. I'll see you out there. Peace.