Today I saw Stonehenge.
I was affected far more than I had expected. The bus pulled up and those stones came into view and my heart leapt into my throat. It was as if this imaginary, fairytale world that only existed in books or onscreen had suddenly become real. That's the only way I can describe it. It was... surreal to say the least.
Is there anything better...
... than the feeling of unconditional peace...
... caused by the realization of your own insignificance?
Looking at the stones wasn't the important part for me. It was just standing in this timeless place of mystery. It was the knowledge that despite decades upon decades of study and research, we have no idea how Stonehenge exists. It was the unfathomable feeling of insignificance and the even more inexplicable peace that feeling brought. It was the fact that most people hadn't stood where I stood. It was the realization of just how lucky I am.
I started to cry while looking at the stones because (1) well, it's Stonehenge, isn't it? Who wouldn't be absolutely flabbergasted at its sight? (Although there were many people there who apparently couldn't be bothered to seem interested, and instead concerned themselves with complaining about the mud and the cold.); and (2) because I'm so lucky to even have the opportunity to have been at this monument of human ingenuity and power. I mean, who am I to deserve this?
That made me think of my mom. I walked around those stones and I couldn't help my mind going to thoughts of her. She's my travel companion. We go everywhere together and we absorb the beauty of new places with the same level of awe. I missed her today worse than I've missed anyone yet. I'm not anyone special. I don't deserve to see Stonehenge, or any of England for that matter, any more than the next person... but my mom has worked hard to make sure that I can.
I like to think that everyone there was silently thanking their moms; but I realize that not everyone took the meaning away from Stonehenge that I did. I kept thinking to myself that I'm not wealthy; my family isn't wealthy; neither of my parents has been to Europe; I'm from a little town called Gun Barrel City in Texas which, while it's a wonderful place to call home, isn't exactly a cultural metropolis... and yet there I was at one of the most meaningful places in the world. How blessed am I? And how happy will my parents be when they see that they've raised a daughter who has been able to go beyond their own experiences? How satisfied will they feel with the knowledge that their baby girl can still be brought to tears and made speechless by the absolute wonder that is life? Thank you for helping me. Thank you for teaching me the ability to be continually amazed. Thank you for everything.
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