History, or at least historical consciousness,is a terrible gravity. My mind reaches back and sees this thing, this weight called capital H History. Thousands of events, millions of lives. That one crossing of the Rubicon we call important. The founding of countries. The Holocaust and the Trail of Tears. And I hit a blank. I can't really conceive of these. I suffocate under it all.
The millions of things happening right now and the paths we've all taken.
How can I possibly imagine what is what like to be a Tutsi in 1994 Rwanada, to be butchered by my neighbours? How can anyone who was even there truly appreciate the scope of it? I try think of mass graves and 800,000 dead people but I just can't. It's too much, my brain shuts down. The complexity of the lives in front of me is already dizzying enough. Grafting that reality onto everyone? To function in the day to day is to ignore the true implications of our shared experiences.
I can't come to terms with our species. I can't grapple with our history, and I can't stand up to our pasts.
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