One time, long ago, my grandmother used to dance folk dances up in her birthtown. Today all I have is a pair of dancing shoes from the ’40s, which I love to slip on for a special day.
One time, Guest house Pooki in my grandparents’ hometown used to be a bank. Today it serves sushi.
As I walked to the shore where we once moored the boat to the summer island, I pondered on the fleetingness of it all. If nothing is constant, why do we create lives as if the opposite were true? If everything is bound to change, why do we resist? And what is the difference between sticking to past times and preserving our past for the future?
Looking out over the sea, I thought about how one time, long ago, the planet Mars had vast oceans. Today we spend millions on seeking traces of condensed water on the barren surface. Perhaps the difference between unhealthy resisting and positive preserving lies in the impact on future generations? Perhaps, instead of understanding space and planets we should understand the impact our little lives has on the future of our world. Perhaps instead of trying to understand the universe I should focus on how my grandfather’s tales and my grandmother’s dancing shoes unnoticeably directed my life.