An Old Soul

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When it comes up in conversation that I willingly majored in History in college I’m often met with the same reaction: Why? Most people (certainly not all) viewed their high school History courses as punishment. I loved mine. My love of history dates back to my very earliest years. My mom says that I’ve always been enthralled by history. My memory picks up in third grade when I was first able to take a formal history class. It was on Ancient Egypt. From that moment at the tender age of nine, I knew I loved it. Everything that was, that used to be, and that happened long ago held power over me. I wanted to know it all.

But that still doesn’t explain why. Honestly I can’t tell you exactly why. All I know that given the opportunity I’d rather delve into the past then figure out the present.

I’ve always believed I was born in the wrong time. Don’t get me wrong. I love my iPhone, laptop, and flushing toilets. But I think I would have done alright living in 17th century England, 19th century France or turn-of-the-20th-century America. I mean in 1919 New York, I would have been a hottie at size 16. (Granted I wouldn’t have been able to vote or write, but I’d have been smokin’).

Should time travel ever become possible my first stop will be the Elizabethan court. Followed closely by the Mongol invasions of Russia, and then perhaps a quick stop in Athens, Greece sometime during the Peloponnesian War. Times seemed simpler then, wars were honorable (although no less bloody, I may romanticize the times but have studied enough to have few false impressions), and the mythology so much richer.

Since I can’t time travel, I’ll have to settle for study, reading, and imagining. Even my dream job of dream jobs involves history. I want to curate an interactive history museum a la Williamsburg, VA. Its not an original concept but I would love ever blessed minute of it. At least for a time I would get to behave and function in a world from long ago. Even the idea of it gives me shivers of joy.

To say I’ve an old soul is a bit of an understatement. My soul I think came from an age past and perhaps I’ll visit that past. Off to work on that time machine.

*PS – Looking for a Delorean in good condition.

*PPS – Happy Mother’s Day!

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One response »

  1. Pingback: When History Teaches Us The Wrong Lesson | See Jenn Live

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