Star Trek & Life Intersection: "Twisted"

Everyone has a running list of little things that add a bit of spark to life for them and make their universe turn. Star Trek is one of those things for me. Even if you’re not a Trekkie, you may have heard the phrase “My Captain Is (fill in the blank).” It’s a Star Trek fan way of saying which Star Trek captain is your favorite, the one you would most wish to serve under, the captain you would trust with your life and follow into battle. My captain is Piccard. When I was pregnant and didn’t yet know the sex of the child, I had told my husband that if the child was a boy we’d have to name it “Jean-Luc.” We ended up having a girl so he never had to test my reserve on that stance. That being said, each captain and crew have their strengths and I’ve watched every Star Trek episode, except (gulp) for those in TOS (the Original Series, with Captain Kirk). For some reason I haven’t been able to make myself power through those. Oh and the newest series (I haven’t allowed myself the luxury of a CBS All Access subscription).

Here lately, I’ve been re-watching Voyager. The strength of a female captain is the lure that’s brought me back, I suppose, to Voyager’s crew. Say what you will about gender and power, seeing someone who looks like you in a position of leadership and command can be a very moving experience on so many levels—sometimes even subconsciously in such a way that you can’t quite understand why you’re reacting at the intensity you are when you see it. I would assume the same could be true for different races and physical abilities that aren’t typically depicted on TV or headline news.

The latest episode I finished (I’m always compelled to go in chronological order) is Season 2, Episode 6: “Twisted.” The crew has some great acting talent, not the least of which is the character Chakotay. I always think it’s so attractive when a very masculine figure by society’s standards integrates the “sacred feminine”—the part of everyone that is receptive, open, attuned, willing to learn. He’s the only one in the crew who is openly and unapologetically spiritual. And he is able to be that while at the same time far from being weak or a pushover.

I find the position of Torres particularly compelling in this episode, for her character really resonates with me. She’s part Kligon (a warrior race) and part human, constantly trying to balance her “weak” and emotional human side with that in her that constantly rages—the part that’s always angry, the part that always seeks to be powerful, the part that is concerned with honor, not love, the part that is afraid to be weak and vulnerable. In this episode the crew is faced with an unexplained phenomenon that is twisting the ship, hence the name of the show. They try everything they can, but in the end they are powerless against this mysterious force. Even when their demise is clear and everyone has accepted that further efforts will be futile, Torres continues to try. She tries desperately, using logic to to come up with one angle after another to attack the faceless enemy. The Klingon in her compels her not to face death with acceptance and grace but with a figurative sword in her hand. It is beyond her comprehension how the others are willing to give up and do nothing. “Do” is the key word. I think so many times when things are beyond our control, instead of acceptance we are programmed to do, do, do. Do something, anything. The shining moment of this episode for me comes when Torres finally sits down with Chakotay in a spiritually receptive attitude, closes her eyes, and holds his hand as the wave of death rolls through them. Not because she was scared, even though she was. Not because there was nothing else to do, even though that was also true. But because she realized that there aren’t always answers for everything. It was a beautiful moment, watching her heart open.

…And, of course, the mysterious twisting power doesn’t end up killing them after all or else there wouldn’t be more episodes to the season.

So I was watching this episode around the same time that I attended a funeral for someone who had been close to me in the past. She was a powerful personality. She was opinionated and vocal, which I’m sure is why I allowed distance to grow between us as my path diverged from hers, but she still very much embodied love and authenticity to her truth if ever anyone did. As someone who doesn’t “do” funerals, you know she had to be a very special person for me to attend her service, even after several years of not communicating. She deserved the respect, the recognition for a life well-led. I want to be able to live that kind of life, the kind that impacts others in such a positive way. I think there are some things there still to be unpacked about the loss that I’m not ready to look at quite yet, but I know this world isn’t the same without her. I know she felt she had a mission in this life and if she’s like most people she probably felt it wasn’t quite fully realized/finished, but when her time to stop “doing” came, I think she also had the grace to hand it over to the greater power that she had served, to allow herself to be enveloped by love, to accept, to relax into the mystery.