Once upon a time, people would shuffle through old photographs. This means that physical fingers would grace the tangible edges of each picture and clumsily flip to the next one. Sometimes, this process would release particles of dust–desperately struggling to remain airborne by the light of the sun. Sometimes, not. Now, we hastily scroll through pictures. Click, click, zoom, “back,” “next,” done. And that’s it. Done.
In all of this sacrilegious impetuousness, there is little hope for a sacred moment–ushered in by a faded photograph– to arrive. Instead, we initiate a hurried recklessness to get to the next one. Don’t you realize that a sacred moment is able to do something with time that nothing else can? When you give pause to something because it reminds you of a former experience, the Present and the Past are firmly shaking hands, gently embracing. They are together again, posing for another photo. Sometimes, very rarely, the Future even throws her arm around the other two and says with a smile, “I’m finally here, like you hoped I would be.” However, all of this is impossible if the Present refuses to cooperate.
In all of this sacrilegious impetuousness, there is little hope for a sacred moment–ushered in by a faded photograph– to arrive. Instead, we initiate a hurried recklessness to get to the next one. Don’t you realize that a sacred moment is able to do something with time that nothing else can? When you give pause to something because it reminds you of a former experience, the Present and the Past are firmly shaking hands, gently embracing. They are together again, posing for another photo. Sometimes, very rarely, the Future even throws her arm around the other two and says with a smile, “I’m finally here, like you hoped I would be.” However, all of this is impossible if the Present refuses to cooperate.