Wednesday, October 13, 2010

old. new. borrowed. blue.

When was the first time you heard The Beatles? In 5th grade my friends and I discovered them, promptly counting ourselves fanatics. Now I chuckle to myself as I imagine informing my parents of this music sensation.

How often a part of the world opens to us, presenting itself as new and exciting, but in reality the region was there before us, and before our fathers.

We laugh about "reinventing the wheel" as an ultimate inefficiency. How about rediscovering sunrise? If we aren't the first to recognize beauty, truth, or love is it a waste to even try? Of course not.

Sometimes when I stand in an older part of town, I look down at my feet and wonder how many souls have wandered over that exact spot. I imagine them in the prime of their lives, walking swiftly with purpose. I imagine that if they had been still for a moment, they might have felt me there, too.

Before we were married, Duke and I romanced about this town in a flurry of youth. Now I smile as my children introduce me to familiar architecture, landmarks, and secret walk-ways.

I have a feeling now, more than ever, that all the generations of mankind are connected.

Maybe we couldn't all rave about our love for The Beatles. But certainly we could speak of changing seasons. I wouldn't mind traveling time to sit aside a brother or sister watching the ocean waves.

What a rich collective history of morning dew, fireside storytelling, and tender kisses we humans have. I'm glad to have a piece of that pie.

2 comments:

Eden Ruth said...

I feel very lucky. I was raised on the Beatles :) It was only until recently that I realized how violent Maxwell's silver hammer actually is. I love love loved this post :)

Brieanna said...

I love this post. This sounds so much like you, Meg. I have often wondered that same thing, how many have stood in this same spot or are experiencing the same longing while staring at the moon. I got chills reading this one. Love it. And the boys outfits, too cute!!!