Time is a peculiar thing. To Einstein it’s relative. To Christians it’s followed by eternity. To lovers, they can’t get enough of it. To elders. they’d like to get more of it. To children, well to children, time is forever.
Museums, on the other hand, look at time differently. They exist to capture it, display it, learn from it. And yet admit it! The past — its heroes and heroines, medicines and plumbing — is usually perceived as frozen in time, useful only for a passing smile of interest,
My but that seems so useless….! Like attending a school reunion and bringing back only your name tag. There has to be something more valuable we can retrieve from the past. However, here’s the problem. In youth’s pride and vigor, there doesn’t seem much to be learned from graying cranky generations. As the Hippie Generation scoffed in the 60s: “Don’t trust anyone over 30!”
Ahh but now that so many of you are over 30, now what…?
Do you still feel that way or do you suspect there just may be something worth picking out from the shambles of history? The ruins can still yield up treasures. From the primitives, their sense of tribe … from the ancients, their sense of awe…from the prophets, their sense of God …the Renaissance, their sense of man…the Enlightenment, their sense of reason….the Victorians, their sense of propriety…f rom the Greatest Generation, their sense of endurance.
Did any of those past generations really follow their dreams and live their ideals? Probably not. And yet here’s something for anyone under 30 to ponder. How many of their uncompleted dreams and ideals still shine in the darkness of our own times? If they do — and many do — then what we may need today is not so much NEW dreams and ideals. Wiser still, taking the SAME dreams and ideals; only now, taking them on with the wisdom of experience.
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