Do you ever have moments when you feel the insignificance of your existence? Moments when you see the global perspective that there are literally billions of people on the planet, currently going about their lives in complete oblivion to your existence. Your pitiful 400 facebook friends look pretty pathetic in comparison. Now expand that present global perspective to historical perspective... Trillions of people have inhabited this earth and yet only a few are well known around the world, and fewer know me. Such moments make me feel, with profound impact, my infinitesimal existence. These moments usually happen to me when I am driving for some reason. I will be sitting at a red light, and as people are turning in front of my car and I catch a glimpse of not just some person or another car, but someone. Someone who has a life completely unconnected with mine, who others depend on, or party with. Whose worries make mine pale in comparison to mine, or whose heart is lighter than mine. Some may have families, and maybe some are lonely like me. I like to imagine where that person is going, and who waits for them there. Sometimes these moments lighten my heart and other times these moments make me feel sad that my life isn't more meaningful.
Another time I have these moments is when I go to historical museums. This past summer I had adventure after adventure, and for some reason spent quite a bit of time going to Oregon Trail museums. These ordinary people made an immense impact on the history on our country. Did they at the time know this? I don't think so, I think they were following a dream of owning their own land. In these museums I would often hear excerpts from journals and memoirs describing hardships, joys, faith, doubt, struggles and accomplishment. These journals were the source of knowing what it was really like to cross the plains, or to be a pioneer. Without them we wouldn't really know. And then I had a similar thought about to the one above... My existence right now is pretty insignificant, however if I were to die still single and without children there would be very little to show that I actually lived. There would be birth and death dates, bank statements, and a work record to show I existed, but nothing to show that I lived. No one to tell stories of my adventures, because no one else would really know them. This thought gripped me as I walked through those museums, nearly suffocating my spirit with a new found importance of leaving something behind worthwhile, not just stuff. As Amy Adams says in Julie and Julia, “I have thoughts!” I have felt the urge to keep a journal. And though I may not always be the most profound person, my ordinary life might one day be the script for some alien museum trying to piece together what life was like in 2012 as a single woman living on earth. :)
So here is me, putting my musings together, and sharing with the world my goal to write a journal. Somethings I may share here, others I may not... we shall see. Check back with me to see how I am doing.