But a friend took me to the most amazing place the other day, it's call the Augusteum. Octavian Ausgustus built it to house his remains. When the barbarians came, they trashed it alone with everything else. The great Augustus, Rome's first true great emperor how could he have imagined that Rome, the whole world, as fas as he was concerned, would be in ruins?
It's one of the quietest and loneliest places in Rome, the city has grown up around it over centuries. It feels like a precious wound, like a heartbreak you won't let go of because it hurts too good.
We all want things to stay the same, settle for living in misery because we are afraid of change, of things crumling to ruins. Then I looked around in this place, at the chaos it has endured, the way it's been adapted, burned, pillaged then found a way to build itself back up again, and I was reassured.
Maybe my life hasn't been so chaotic. It's just the world that is and the only real trap is getting attached to any of it.
Ruin is a gift, ruin is the route to transformation.
Even in this eternal city, the Augusteum showed me that we must always be prepared for endless waves of transformation.
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