A place with such ancient human history promotes reflective thinking. Walking among stone walls and thatch-roofed buildings stirs certain realizations that abrade against an American "can do" attitude. The ruins on the Aran Islands have names in a language that almost dissappeared. Those labels are certainly not what the structures were called by their original builders. This is because we are unsure who laid that first course or when that occured. To be in this place makes it obvious that this will be here long after I depart having already been here for millenia.
Meanwhile among my closest professional friends are individuals striving to improve the world. How strange it is to aspire to make lasting changes when the very ground I walked upon today indicates my pesence is barely detected. This produces a genuine tension ; the cliffs towering over the sea exist because those that were once adjacent have fallen and cushed into sand. In addition to a fear of losing footing and tumbling 100 meters into the surf, I should also accept the inevitability that this stone face will let go.
And yet there have been individuals whose actions have indelibly shape Ireland including St Patrick for his benevolence and Cromwell for his destructiveness. Maybe centuries is too clumsy of a measure of a persom's worth. Admittedly, a lifetime photographing pints of coder or stout might be inadequate. Yet somehow it feels both daring and proper to attempt to alter conditions for the betterment of those who will survive us.
