It’s amazing what can be held in a place.
There are memories, snapshot stories of specific times and feelings. A place is never just a physical space. It has just as many parts and pasts as the people who visit.
Several years ago, I visited St. Edwards University to support a close family friend. I had no attachments to the school. It was my first time ever stepping foot there, and the only building I cared to know the location of was the gym where my friend would be performing.
But for my parents, it was different.
St. Edwards University was the place they first met. They noticed every change since they had gone to school there, had a story for every turn and every building. They could have walked around the school for hours, and to them it would be much more than the University that held the State Championship Gymnastics Tournament we were there for. It wouldn’t be just a “pretty campus” or a “good school” or any stock description found in a pamphlet.
To them, it was the beginning of their love story.
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| To my parents, the buildings at St. Edward's University contained the beginnings of their love story. |
This is the field where we first met.
And that’s the stairwell your father yelled down when I didn’t call him after he gave me his number.
And this building here used to be a dorm room…
I had a similar experience during my trip to Boulder, Colorado this summer—seven years after my last trip there. As I walked the downtown square with my brother and sister-in-law after all the time away, I noticed every little change while at the same time, I was transported back to my first time walking the very same streets.
This is the store where I bought the sweater I’m wearing right now…
And this is the little shop where I bought my first deck of tarot cards…
And right here is where my friends and I stopped and stood to take a picture together, a picture that now hangs on my wall at home…
The streets still held the magic of my past there, a time in my life I look back on fondly and a bit wistfully.
And it got me thinking about all those buildings that are so much more than what they seem on the surface.
We don’t just make buildings; we make vessels for stories and memories to be held—things that have far more weight than those four walls and the sign above the door.
During my trip to Boulder, CO this summer, I was reminded of the memories I've made there.
Right now we live in a culture that moves from place to place so fast. We don’t take the time to look because we know we don’t need to. We have cell phones, cameras, so many different ways to capture a place without committing it to memory and truly stopping to appreciate what it means to us.
We are more than skin and bones and blood–all the parts that make us whole. Likewise, the physical spaces we inhabit are more than the sum of their parts, more than stone and glass, plaster and wood.
Whether bodies or brick, let’s be present in all the spaces we inhabit as we build our stories together.
What places and spaces are most significant in your life? What have you noticed most about these places? What has changed about them over the years?
I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below!
