Does history end when we stop writing it? I highly doubt it. A political scientist by the name of Francis Fukuyama once wrote an essay called The End of History. I remember studying it during my university days. Whether or not history is written down is besides the point. The story does continue, even when we have stopped writing it or started reading another book.

Even when we are not there to write or witness history, ‘it’ was still taking its course and gaining the momentum it needed to continue on.

What is history but a collection and collation of stories where we tell the tales of the values and traditions that endure; and record the fact that the various peoples of the world have different impulses, wishes, priorities and dreams?

History is where we archive the way that the impulse of the world has changed depending on the particular time and place in which we find ourselves.

What happens when we impose one particular dream on everyone currently alive? It happens. We privilege one ideology over another. We say one way of life is better, more superior and so on… We keep saying, “This is the dream… This is the dream…”

For those of us who have bought into dreams that were not ours, there is a palpable sense that something is not right. That one’s True Dream lay elsewhere and that with courage and conviction, one would not only find it, but live to tell the tale.

What if we were to try and convince everyone that there is such a thing as ‘the best dream’ and it is the only one that matters?

Part of what allows us to understand–and not only read–about historical events is our understanding of the people and the land. When we learn about cultures that are different to our own, we begin to realise how dangerous it is to assume that one way of thinking and being can apply everywhere without discernment.

It is not possible. It is not even probable. For some reason, however, it has never stopped certain individuals from attempting to create the world in their own image. But the day came, of course, when the mirror stopped reflecting…

And something entirely new and different began to stare back.

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