"This man, with lime and rough-cast, doth present
Wall, that vile Wall which did these lovers sunder;
and through Wall's chink, poor souls, they are content
To whisper, at the which let no man wonder."
A Midsummer Night's Dream, W. Shakespeare
Looking out over the Northern Pass, you can see the hills fold into each other before disappearing into the late-afternoon mist. Coupled with the setting sun and the bursts of crimson and burnt-orange foliage, you can't help but notice the subtle progression of the seasons. The autumn wind picks up, whips my hair around my face and coaxes an involuntary shiver that travels up the base of my spine. I pull my hood up, shove my hands in my pockets and avoid touching the cold, cracked stone - which after a thousand years still seems impenetrable, formidable even.
Standing by a gatehouse on the wall, I could imagine the battalions of imperial guards in their heavy armor, guarding the vast empire against the Mongol hoards... But as magnificent as Chángchéng is (translated is simply long wall), it's no match for today's invasion of Japanese tourists, armed with their matching tour-group hats and Canon digital SLR's. Welcome to the Great Wall of China, complete with its own Starbucks, naturally.
According to the dictionary, a wall is "an architectural partition with a height and length greater than its thickness; used to divide or enclose an area or to support another structure." Great examples of historically important walls include The Great Wall of China (which I'm showcasing in this post), the Berlin Wall, the Wailing Wall and most recently, the West Bank Wall. But the hardest (or maybe trickiest) walls to penetrate I've found have been those psychological partitions, one of them charmingly described by a friend of mine:
Wall, that vile Wall which did these lovers sunder;
and through Wall's chink, poor souls, they are content
To whisper, at the which let no man wonder."
A Midsummer Night's Dream, W. Shakespeare
Looking out over the Northern Pass, you can see the hills fold into each other before disappearing into the late-afternoon mist. Coupled with the setting sun and the bursts of crimson and burnt-orange foliage, you can't help but notice the subtle progression of the seasons. The autumn wind picks up, whips my hair around my face and coaxes an involuntary shiver that travels up the base of my spine. I pull my hood up, shove my hands in my pockets and avoid touching the cold, cracked stone - which after a thousand years still seems impenetrable, formidable even.Standing by a gatehouse on the wall, I could imagine the battalions of imperial guards in their heavy armor, guarding the vast empire against the Mongol hoards... But as magnificent as Chángchéng is (translated is simply long wall), it's no match for today's invasion of Japanese tourists, armed with their matching tour-group hats and Canon digital SLR's. Welcome to the Great Wall of China, complete with its own Starbucks, naturally.
According to the dictionary, a wall is "an architectural partition with a height and length greater than its thickness; used to divide or enclose an area or to support another structure." Great examples of historically important walls include The Great Wall of China (which I'm showcasing in this post), the Berlin Wall, the Wailing Wall and most recently, the West Bank Wall. But the hardest (or maybe trickiest) walls to penetrate I've found have been those psychological partitions, one of them charmingly described by a friend of mine:"When it comes to our emotions, men are effective at building walls,
but then we screw up by leaving the front door open."
but then we screw up by leaving the front door open."
Those walls we build in the windmills of our minds aren't exclusively constructed to keep people out though, they also function to keep us trapped within a certain mindset (think about the Berlin Wall.) These mental fortresses are built on the bricks of idle contentment, fear and self-doubt, and we become afraid of what lies outside the calm confines of our everyday lives. It's a wall that keeps us from getting to know our neighbors, our co-workers, our siblings, our lovers - ourselves. It discourages us from traveling, from following our dreams, from taking risks and from rising above the static. For me, I can honestly say that these types of walls (the ones I build around myself) are the most destructive and limiting - because most things worth doing are found just beyond my reach; just beyond those walls.
It's my hope that we continue to build bridges instead of walls, all the while helping each other discover those roads leading to richer, more fulfilling lives. I also hope you get to experience this amazing piece of historical architecture first hand and marvel at the way the Great Wall of China snakes across the landscape like a sleeping dragon.
10:20 AM
Dearest Riani,
Thank you for that lovely posting.
You are a very good writer. Have you considered writing a travel book?
Get a publisher to agree on you producing the accounts of your Asian sojourn. Make it chatty and engage the reader with your usual casual self. It will be a sell out. Believe me.
Miss you.
ma
11:27 AM
that was more or less the subject of a long rant of mine in my journal today.
Future and limitations, what can I do and what do I want to do.
I'm at a loss.
11:45 AM
Your photos of the Great Wall of China are wonderful!!! Perhaps you have a career in writing travel logs and taking pictures!
4:53 PM
Dear Riani,
Thank you for sharing this very eloquently and poetic piece with me. Your insights into mental walls and your exhortation to build bridges instead struck a chord in me. Thank you so much for this gift of your understanding and creative communication.
I look forward to hearing from you!
Warm Regards,
Sunil