Traces

Trying to understand better who I am, I examine the traces left by my ancestors. My emergence from the substance of the cosmos has been shaped by the hands and minds of those who have proceeded me. I look for the traces they have left behind.

The traces tell me about the ancient use of fire, a legacy of my progenitors. Traces were left by them some 400,000 years ago, and the results are part of who I am. Much of what I am is the consequence of actions taken so many years ago and I know them by the subtle traces that remain.

My inheritance is defined by the scratches on bones left by ancestors who ate the last of the wooly mammoths. The traces they unknowingly left behind tell me part of the story of what it means to be human. Hints of my legacy define in subtle strokes the emergence of the creature I am now becoming.

So too the written marks on tablets and stone are traces of minds who transformed the world and shaped my culture. Today, on the anniversary of the massacre at Wounded Knee, I am reminded of the indelible traces my ancestors have imposed on my own life by the horrible actions they took against fellow humans. The traces all remind me of the history that lives in me.

I did not come into existence without those many traces of the past that defined both my inheritance and who I am. When I was born, I entered and became a living part of a world shaped by those who individually and collectively left traces of their lives behind them. I was born with instructions, traces written by the hands of the many who lived before me.

With little awareness, I became part of a world shaped by ancestors who left many revealing traces. To become more aware, I study whose traces to better understand just what it means today for me to be part of humankind. The traces left by them are not so much for my inspiration as they are a definition of who I am.

I am also noticing that the traces I cause around me are defining what the present has become. My world is etched by traces of who I am, very like the scratches left on bones or chips on stone tools left by my ancestors.

I leave more than footprints that indicate, or at least suggest, the kind of creature I am. The traces say that I am a builder of roads so that I can move about more easily. I am a destroyer of forests so that I can have an unlimited supply of toilet paper. I am a creature who uses fire to create light and motion.

I like to remember that I am also a gardener who creates beauty around me. I produce enjoyment and nurturing for creatures both different and like my own kind. My traces tell what I have become.