We almost long for such sentiment, especially when it isn’t…sentiment. We want something that feels real, authentic. When something is like that, it reaches far down to something deep inside us.
Why is that?
Perhaps this feels enhanced for so many of us because there is so much of our lives that feels little more than contrived. We know about the real thing, but rarely actually experience it ourselves. If anything, we watch depictions of it. We consume things that portray it, thinking that must be all we can do — not really experience it ourselves, but substituting that by just entertaining ourselves with it.
But, knowing about something or even understanding it doesn’t really measure up to what we ultimately want, the experience of it.
Meaningfulness is often more a function of participating in something, than it is in simply understanding it.
We can know about Selma, but there is nothing quite like walking over that bridge. Seeing a picture of beautiful mountains is nice, but nothing like actually hiking in them. Listening to a great song is rarely as good as being at the concert where it is performed ‘live’. And, then there’s Christmas — all of the ambiance, music, sweetness, softness, and nostalgia year after year seems to actually create the opposite effect when it isn’t shared with real friends and loved ones.
We want the real thing — to experience it ourselves. Because, that’s what makes it meaningful.
