Something Historical

“It’s always something!” lamented the Saturday Night Live character Roseanne Roseannadanna, hilariously played by Gilda Radner many years ago. Her frustrated yell at the camera always made me laugh because it rang so true! Thankfully, in my case, that “something” often beckoned me to cross thresholds into wonderous adventures.

For the past five weeks, as the guide for WRITE THAT DOWN, a workshop in the Art of Creative Journal Writing, events of world history (both past and present) have dominated my awareness. Focusing on the theme “Something Historical,” we met once a week for two hours at the Dana Point Historical Society Museum surrounded by numerous black and white photographs, city blueprints, maritime memorabilia, replicas of sailing ships, and so much more. We plotted personal timelines, pondered coinciding global events, wrote freely, and shared deeply. What an incredible experience to gaze at ourselves as citizens of the world, occupying a place in history while simultaneously living day to day, working, and raising families.

I firmly believe that timelines (everyone’s timeline, not just the famous), contain important insights into personal growth and communal understanding. How do timelines cross and effect personal stories?  How have world events shaped how we think and feel? What meaningful lessons have we learned from history? These are just a few of the questions raised.

There is so much talk today about letting go of the past, not wasting time worrying about the future, and simply living in the present moment with mindfulness. Sounds good but how do we actually do that?  Such a pursuit remains elusive, largely because we carry the past with us into the present and we cannot help but make a plan for the future. Caught on the “carousel of time” we need to sit down once in a while, sift through personal history, and write down the memorable events, influential teachers, and pivotal moments of enlightenment that have made us unique. Such a practice constitutes the very essence of the spiritual life.

Long ago, Thoreau wrote that most of us “lead lives of quiet desperation,” a quote etched on my memory when I was in my impressionable twenties. “Ugh! Not me!” I declared, and set sail on a serious quest for meaning. (Still on that ship). Despite fleeting moments of desperation, anxiety written on countless faces (including my own), I still believe in following the impossible dream and holding the banner of hope high. History teaches us that we are resilient survivalists, capable of adapting to the shifting demands of climate and culture, however devastating some events turned out to be. We possess ingenuity, along with the ability to rise again and again to face the dilemmas and challenges of the modern age we inhabit. We also ride on an infinite river of love and grace which some of us call “God.”

Even though I may succumb to worry about the world my grandchildren will inherit and long for the old days when life seemed more innocent (it never was), I remind myself that all past elders shared that same fear of the future—what devastating effects the invention of automobiles, the telephone, radio, television, etc., would do to life. Yet, here we are, using the tools of modernity while continuing to invent new ones. Yes, the rate of invention is rather alarming to us old timers but not so to the young, digital natives. They, too, shall rise to the occasion and find meaning if we encourage them to reflect on their own timelines, learn from the past, and make way for the astounding and illuminating “something” the future holds.