Restored

December 14, 2023: Esna, Egypt

On our journey through Egypt, we have heard a lot about restorations. Sculptures. Temples. Sarcophagi. Cities. It’s part of the nature of human civilization. We create. We destroy. We rebuild.

As we began our Egyptian exploration, I felt the conflict between restoring and leaving intact. There are arguments for both options. We have seen examples of both on this trip and seeing an artifact exactly as it was found is so compelling. To think that an object has survived thousands of years and here it is – unchanged from its creation day – is so powerful. But to see an object restored to show its original appearance can be so informative and fascinating. Both have value.

When we began traveling just one week ago, we had no idea what we would discover. Pyramids, of course. But I have seen pyramids in my school books. I didn’t know I would feel so moved by seeing them in person, by waking into them, by seeing the hidden chambers tucked inside, and the countless artifacts hidden inside. It’s been an amazement. It feels like an encounter with the passage of time and civilization.

Then, I started to realize I wasn’t feeling so good and, yesterday, I awoke and realized I had to call a stop. While the tour continued without me, I spent the entire day and night in bed – nearly 48 hours sleeping. And I dreamt. In one dream, shimmering and flickering beings floated above and told me that they were expecting me, but I had arrived too early. They instructed me to go back and they would see me later when the time was right.

In my next dream, I was an old man with several children on my deathbed. I was unafraid. I looked around the room I was in and knew I was in my home surrounded by images and objects from my life and the life of my children. I knew I had lived a good life and felt only contentment from a life lived well.

In my final dream, a friend (yes, it was you Brenda W!) had purchased a home and we had stopped in for a visit. For some reason, Brenda kept finding objects in the home that were mine and she kept returning them to me. I was annoyed because I couldn’t understand why she didn’t want to keep them where they were. I went to replace one object (my high school yearbook) back on a shelf and suddenly realized that it didn’t belong there anymore. I was not part of this house and it was time to move on.

My dreams and this journey are helping me understand that my life – like a civilization – has moments and eras of its own that happen once and slowly drift off in my personal history. Each new segment of my personal history rests on the memories and experiences that came before, but they can’t be relived. My retirement is upon me now. Rather than trying to relive past moments, I need to move forward and face new challenges and write new chapters.

I woke feeling restored this morning. My past remains behind me, just where it should be. New adventures lie ahead and like those who came before me, I will live them fully. And when my time comes, I will be content for the life I have lived.