Sunday, August 13, 2006
Why are ruins so attractive, mysterious, beguiling even?
What seduces our hearts toward them?
Why is it so many find their sadness intoxicating?
What seed is being watered in these feelings?
What are our eyes trying to say with their tears?
Maybe ruins bid us surrender to our strivings and our ideas of perfection and fulfilment. That we cannot defy time or our common humanity and brokenness. They tell stories whose message is one of the folly of giving up peace of mind for unrealistic and unstable rewards. Sometimes, old stones make us aware and allow us to feel and see our anxieties about our achievements (or lack of them) and who we are.
And maybe the real gift of ruins is that they point to a bigger picture, they move us away from the temporal to the eternal - they remind us that some things just can't be fixed this side of a much better place. Maybe even they give us perspective and in their presence we are granted a glimpse of our own insignificance...