A few days ago, I woke up, half-dreading the 6-mile run I needed to complete in preparation for the half-marathon I’m signed up to run in just under two months. Whenever runs get torturous, or I’m having a terrible day and just don’t want to get out there, I tell myself that this is all in preparation for one day achieving my ultimate goal of becoming an astronaut. Somehow, that provides some internal inkling of motivation that gets me going every time. For many months, perhaps a year now, I’ve had a secret desire to run the internal perimeter of JSC – from gate to gate to gate…to gate (I think)…if not to just prove to myself that I could do it. That day, I decided, was the day, and I set about mapping my route and subsequently out the door.

It was, in some fashion, much like a glimpse through the evolution of the space center. From its inception as the Manned Spacecraft Center, the buildings, the employees, the land that Johnson Space Center rests upon have trudged through the beaten course through programs and changes galore.

New buildings dot the outskirts of the center, while recognizable structures, like MCC, remain sturdy and discernable from distances. I imagined what life was like 40, 30, even 10 years ago. And as I made my way past the Saturn V rocket, I couldn’t help but think of it as a fascinating display of our intellect, perseverance, and determination.

Then, I rounded the corner.

An inconspicuous trail sets off to the right of one of the outer roads of JSC, one I’ve driven past what must be hundreds of times. At first, I ran past it, but something made me glance over my right shoulder at a couple of dozen trees, arranged in a circular pattern. I doubled back and entered the memorial garden. Wreaths and flowers adorned the trees planted in remembrance of the men and women who have given their lives to human spaceflight. Robert Gilruth, Frank Caldeiro, Gus Grissom, Rick Husband, Judith Resnik were only some of the names I jogged past. As I paused briefly to pick up the fallen memorial wreaths placed at the trees of the commanders of the Apollo 1 and Columbia crews (the one for the Challenger crew braved the winds), I couldn’t help but think about where we’ve come in the 50 years since NASA’s inception…the feats we’ve accomplished, the goals we’ve set, achieved, and surpassed. I couldn’t help but think about the sacrifices these men and women, along with countless others, have made in order to further our innate desire and yearning to explore.

And now, as we stand at the foothill of one of the most challenging and difficult moments in our nation’s space program, I believe it’s imperative to take on the responsibility of seeing the big picture. This new direction will commit the US to 10 more years on the International Space Station; it will restore funding and focus on life and earth sciences; it will allow NASA to undergo a complete paradigm shift in order to work closely with commercial entities to get crews safely into LEO.

I’m not sure about you all, but that to me is very specific, very distinct direction that, though detracts from our previous programmatic goal of reaching for the moon, has a very clear purpose. I see this as a stepping stone to free NASA resources to concentrate on beyond-LEO exploration. If we can prove that we can work well with our commercial partners to get humans into LEO, and subsequently allow them to maintain that capability, our boundaries are expanded ten-fold at minimum, and we’re free to allocate resources towards getting humans back onto the moon, onto Mars, and throughout our solar system. Sure, the timeline is a bit delayed, relatively, but there’s no proof (nor will there ever be) of what our timeline to get to the moon would’ve been with Constellation.

Though this proposed budget has not yet been approved, I think it’s inevitable that little can be done to drastically change the policy that eventually gets implemented. This reality, then, begs the question: what can we do?

Over the past few days, I’ve spent countless hours (literally) thinking about the implications of this significant change. Many of us will be displaced; many centers will likely see rearrangement; we will undoubtedly see the culture change that many have indicated NASA has needed for a good, long time.

So, where does this leave us? It’s imperative that we embrace this change and put forth the effort to work with the commercial space industry to accomplish the goals set out by the Administration; after all, if we don’t – we’re done for. Ultimately, the more resistance to this change we put in as an agency, the further we set ourselves back.

However, if we can prove our merit and ability to enable the commercial space industry to do what we do now, I hold onto hope that we will eventually be rewarded for our efforts with an inspiring, exciting new vision that gets humans beyond LEO and exploring the unknowns.

With this in mind, I believe it’s absolutely essential that we prepare for this future today. I’ve heard countless times over the last few days that, if adopted, this new direction will drive our talent and resources out the door, leaving the agency with no experience, knowledge, or expertise (you know, the ones we already have right now) to get us beyond LEO someday. If this is, in fact, even remotely a possibility, it’s crucial for us to work to make sure the good isn’t lost. We should make it a priority to cultivate and capture ALL of the lessons learned, experiences, and knowledge in order to utilize it when the time comes. We should identify and infuse this new culture with all of the positive aspects of our existing culture. And most importantly, we should be optimistic about our futures and see this entire reshuffle as an opportunity to REALLY contribute to our space program and help steer how we all handle the coming years. I imagine this to be an opportunity much like the founders of our agency had in creating Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo – to be bold and innovative, as we expand the frontiers of human space exploration.

Even now, a few days after that visit to the memorial garden, I can’t help but think about the amazing feats we’ve accomplished and the men and women who’ve helped get us to this very moment in time. Despite political decisions dictating our agency’s very being, I think it cannot be denied that NASA is home to some of the most intelligent and driven people who have true passion for space exploration. Let’s not allow this change of pace to derail that motivation and passion for contributing to human space exploration. Though times are changing, and we no longer have a clear timeline to beyond-LEO exploration, I urge everyone to keep an open mind about the implications of this lack of direction. What we do know is that we all are here for the same reason; and if we put forth that passion and effort into our forward work, there is no doubt in my mind that we can make the legends of our past proud of the accomplishments of our future.