I did not write this, but hopefully you might be inspired by it.

I've become a bit of an NPR junkie as of late, late being the past two years. I'm not sure if this signifies that I'm becoming boring for having zero to little interest in the distractions enjoyed by my peers: the jovial antics of Eric & Kathy, the repetetive crude shockuality of Stern, or the bloviating pompous ass Mancow Muller and his army of ignorant, brainwashed ninjas. I do know that I've learned much about the state of the world and its relation to the bubble of security to which I awake every morning: 2000 sf loft overlooking the skyline, well paying engineering job, drinking on the weekends and fairly expensive yoga classes. I've heard of love and genocide, of accomplished cellists and radical preachers, Nigerian rappers and China's burgeoning economy, all while fighting the daily bottleneck along Eisenhower's "expressway."

This I believe is one of the many segments I look forward to every week. In the matter of a few minutes, politicians and magicians, average joes, doctors, and corporate CEO's, expound upon the rocks upon which they've built their foundation. And I'm always inspired by their wise words which have guided them through the mucky bog of the human condition. This is one of those segments, aired a few months ago on a frigid morning here in the windiest of cities. Hopefully it speaks to you as it spoke to me.

Victor Hanson, a community member wrote the following essay for this series:

"I believe that all of us need some grounding in our modern world of constant moving, buying, selling, meeting and leaving. Some find constancy in religion. Others lean on friends or community for permanence. But we need some daily signposts that we are not novel, not better, not worse from those who came before us. For me, this house, this farm, these ancient vines are those roots. Although I came into this world alone and will leave alone, I am not alone. There are ghosts of dozens of conversations in the hallways, stories I remember about buying new plows that now rust in the barnyard and ruined crops from the same vines that we are now harvesting. I believe all of us are natural links in a long chain of being, and that I need to know what time of day it is, what season is coming, whether the wind is blowing north or from the east, and if the moon is still full tomorrow night, just as the farmers who came before me did. The physical world around us constantly changes, but human nature does not. We must struggle in our brief existence to find some transcendent meaning during reoccurring heartbreak and disappointment and so find solace in the knowledge that our ancestors have all gone through this before. You may find all that all too intrusive, living with the past as present. I find it exhilarating. I believe there is an old answer for every new problem, that wise whispers of the past are with us to assure us that if we just listen and remember, we are not alone; we have been here before."