While exploring the Roman/Greek style architecture of Washington D.C, I decided to pay a visit to one of the many museums around the District of Columbia. I faced a difficult choice, as the district is known for the large quantities of museums. The Smithsonian museums seem to be the most abundant ones, aside from being the most popular ones. While I was strolling through the beautiful capital, I could not help but notice the tranquil atmosphere. The wind was confident but yet calm- only Inviting itself into my jacket from seconds at a time. Even when the breeze lost its temper, the inner giggling from my heart managed to keep me cozy. I could not help but to smile while indulging in the aesthetic of the city. Although the metropolis is designed to be history oriented, the lack of knowledge does not affect the architectural design. The roads are wide, enough to be considered a block in certain countries. I am sure that these are often full of bustling vehicles and preoccupied workers, however, it was the day after thanksgiving. While many individuals snuggled with their families after enjoying a hearty meal, I allowed the city to spoil me and I explored the beautiful capital.
Among these roads, there are combinations of many structures, primarily combinations of parks and statues. If you are keen on history, you may begin to parse the local icons. I would argue that this is where DC shines the brightest. Sculptures seem to be placed at every block, with most of them having some form of history attached to them. Of course, most of these are based on American heroes, but it should not diminish the fact that these icons are still history. By interacting with every statue and learning their history, these bronze figures allow you to enter into a different life- Even if for a mere second. Some of these icons are influential enough to have buildings and monuments based after them. Regardless, my curiosity towards American history peaked and I ventured to the Smithsonian National Museum of American History.
The sudden change in atmosphere was prevalent. The bigger crowds of families followed by the ever so phlegmatic faculty that clashed with the serenity of the outside world. Families primarily populated the halls of the museums, these groups often had one member that seemed to always be behind. I saw lovers, dragging each other to their favorite periods of history while their partner humor them with simple pleasantries. While exploring a gallery dedicated to the history of the numerous American wars, I saw a heartwarming event. A duo of a father and daughter. As a given trait of curiosity and innocence, the daughter curiously asked the father: “why were people throwing tea into the water?” The father matched the height of his daughter by lowering his knee and proceeded to explain the events that started the “Boston Tea Party”. The man was thoughtful and instructive in the topic, yet he was ever so careful with the content of his narrative as to keep his information appropriate for his audience.The girl stayed quiet and attentive, never losing sight of her father. Only allowing her gaze to change once the man wished to match his narrative with the many pictures and portraits in the gallery.
The highlight of this incursion came in the form of a person, a book author to be exact. I finished exploring the third floor of the museum and saw a lady occupy a table next to the escalator. A sign next to her read: “Meet the author of this book” with a picture of said tome. Literature is important and often I enjoy purchasing books from the locations I visit. Not only that, but I have never met a book author before.
“Are you the author of this book?” I asked.
She responded with a sanguine tone, almost like she had never had this question asked to her before. Friendliness oozed from her, from those few seconds of introductive dialogue you could get snippets of her soul. She spoke to me as if we had known each other for years, long distance friends who never met but yet never started as strangers- only nameless. The conversation continued until I decided to buy her publication. A book dedicated to exploring the many objects around the museum. I would argue that this would be the area where her soul shined the brightest. While discussing her work, I asked a lot of questions. I was curious about the topics of this book, after all I blindly purchased the book without any external knowledge. Without a second thought, she would respond to all my questions so sincerely.
As she got her personal items situated, she managed to turn the conversation into one of passion. While she began to explain her journey of publishing her work, I was lucky to stare into her eyes at moments. Her gaze was adorned with vivid aquamarines that would sparkle when her favorite topics would amerged. Her work ethic inspires me. To think that this individual was able to put in a few minutes or work every morning for five years, is simply incredible. Many would lose sight of their goal by the time next week would arrive, but it is more impressive that she managed to do this while still working at the museum. To simplify my discoveries, I saw passion.
Passion is a motivator, often a benefactor to many lives. If it wasn’t for passion in this world, there would be no changes, no new inventions, no conflicts and no resolutions. In the canvas we call life, passion often can be painted in many colors depending on the artist. Nevertheless, Passion is rare in the world, or at the very least in my world. While I do see people in the world creating things or achieving goals, I cannot help but to ponder about certain aspects of said goals. Anyone can create things, but are these truly works of passion or a mere “stepping stone” in their lives? I see college graduates, earning a degree not to change or help their community but to become richer. On the other hand, I see people who refrain from all types of passion, perhaps out of fear in which the world may retaliate for their actions. Still, I hope to think that this wave of submission has an equal rival. True passionate people, that although they do not shout their achievements to the world, they can still alter their own universe.
I think the book author is a perfect example of this revelation. A lady that is practically unknown to the globe and sharing her expertise to the world. While her expertise may not change local laws or cure cancer, her works changed something within me. She made me understand that even the smaller items that we hold on dearly in our lives have some form of value. Perhaps those earrings a girl might be wearing might have more history than actual historical figures. That even something as small as the red slippers from the Wizard of Oz can carry a legacy that must be appreciated. It helped me grasp a better understanding of the smaller details in life, especially towards physical items.
I will forever be grateful for the opportunity to have met this person. But most importantly, I am fortunate to witness what true good passion might be like.
If I were to share anything from this experience, it would be that everyone needs to find a true good passion. Something that can create change within others without having the need to exploit the rewards. That form of good may manifest in many ways, but it should allow us to create good without the fear of consequences. That whatever you create must be done in a sincere manner and, just like the book author taught me, to be ever so cautious to the traces we leave behind in whatever item we create- whether this item is physical or emotional.
While it is often easy to get lost in this world, and with it so can passion. Always know that regardless of what you do, you will be judged and your history will be scribbled away in the never ending epic of this world. Understand that, we are all in control of our actions and therefore responsible for them. While for many, these words can be daunting. I would not worry about the outcome, as long as you create passionate things with honesty and good intentions, the universe will react accordingly. Whether that is today or tomorrow.
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