On the night I sat lost in my reverie before the Capitol I also had the opportunity to set foot in the vast, lofty hall of the Lincoln Memorial. I had visited both places in the morning but it was at night, when the buzz and din in the air had subdued was I truly able to experience their splendor and solemnity.
Lincoln's statue towers over you as you walk in. His posture although relaxed, with him sitting back into the chair, also exudes a presence of authority and contemplation: his one foot slightly jutting out, his right hand grasping the arm of his seat with resolve while the left curled up implying a pondering mind, and his gaze off into the distance.
When I had been there the previous morning I was unable to hear my own thoughts over the noise of everyone else. But now after midnight there were only a handful of people and I had the liberty to take pictures at my own pace and read the inscriptions on the walls that flanked him on either side.
Inscribed on one of the walls was the famous Gettysburg Address that Lincoln gave in 1863:
"Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation or any nation so conceived and so dedicated can long endure. But in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead who struggled here have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us – that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion – that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation under God shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from the earth." - Abraham Lincoln
Lincoln might be one of my favorite American presidents (FDR and Kennedy trailing close behind in the rankings) most likely because of his command of the written word. He used to write his own speeches - the aforementioned a striking example of his eloquence and ability to capture emotion and be inspiring.
You must be wondering what is with the sentences in bold. I found them to be particularly moving. As I stood in the memorial, my eyes darting across the smooth stone wall, taking in the words that had once been spoken - ephemeral in nature but inscribed forever into the hearts and memories of those present then and transcribed for eternity - I was riveted by the immense resolve and command that emanated from them.
For the words can be used in any context of importance. As individuals continuing along a path that has been lit by many before us we ought to continue bearing the torch down to the next generation - be it the struggle for civil rights, women's rights, human rights, social justice, transgender rights, gay rights, environmental rights - so that we may be able to one day say: "Those who sacrificed their time, energy, and in some cases even lives before us did not do so in vain".
We all have a responsibility, a great task before us: to make the world a better place for the future. How we choose to do so, on what aspect we desire to focus on is our decision. Some choose to take it on while others do not.
That is why I am on this journey. I want to take it on. I wish to bear the torch, along with others, towards the future. My existence may be ephemeral. My efforts, on the other hand, could possibly live on. That is my aspiration.
What I had come to discover was the influence Muslims had left in Spain.