when i was a kid, we used to go dinosaur hunting on the beach. we would bring archaeological tools (a screwdriver and a hammer) and we would bang at the rocks until we splintered them in half. they were shale and i was determined to find the fossilized remains of an as-yet-undiscovered dinosaur.
i did find little tiny fish bone fossils and imprints of shells. which was super cool and only fed my desire to dig for more.
this was when i decided to become an archaeologist. i was going to dig for evidence of the past. i was going to dig up items that would help sociologists to create theories about how our ancestors lived.
the most exciting thing that ever happened was on a trip to an island. we heard there was a dig there, so my dad took me to see it. i was 12, and it was the most exciting day ever. i was going to meet a real archaeologist and i was going to learn SO much and be inspired and maybe be asked to stay and help with the excavation!!!
we arrived at the site and it had been cleaned up and there was no one there. however, someone else had been there and left a box with a note. the note said
"Dear Dr. ____________
i was here earlier this year and i dug up these bones and artifacts. i was going to keep them but i was feeling guilty and my conscious got the better of me. i found them here where i have left the box for you. i hope that you can forgive me and i hope that these bones are helpful for your study."
we looked at the box, we looked at the site. and my dad made the decision to take the box with us. for a few weeks, i was a REAL archaeologist. although i didn't do the digging myself, i was at a dig site and i discovered a box of bones. looking through them, they were animal bones. and since they were found all in one spot, they were most likely some sort of garbage pit.
when we got home, my dad looked up archaeologists and found one that was local. he brought them the box with the note and the information about where the dig was ... except ... he let me keep the hundreds of years old hip bone of some kind of animal. probably a deer. it sat on top of his tv for years and years. i have no idea where that hip bone is now; it's kind of creepy really.
i moved on from my dream of wanting to be an archaeologist. i went through phases of wanting to be an environmental scientist, a marine biologist, a ballet dancer, a rock star, and a teacher.
but now, looking at my process; looking at what i am doing in my life right now, i really am an archaeologist. i am digging through my past, finding artifacts, and holding them up to the light to study how they have shaped me into who i am today. sometimes what i find is boring; just bones in a garbage pile. but sometimes i find an artifact that when i look at it from various angles, i can see so much of who i am and where i came from.
what does one do with bones of one's past? nosy nora says we can make soup with the bones. the garbage bones would make a very gross soup - which nosy nora suggested i could feed to the bad people who hurt me. *grin* but the good bones, they could make a nice soup.
there is a poster in my office that says "if you put bad ingredients into your pot, you will make bad soup ... if you put good ingredients into your pot you will make good soup."
in this case, i don't think there are really good or bad bones in our past. i think that we dig up evidence, and facts, and proof, and experiences, and bones that shaped us. not good. not bad. just bones.
what have you found on your dig? what are your bones?
xoxo
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