Leaning against the stone wall of The Great Pyramid of Giza, taking shade from the heat of the Egyptian sun, I’m in awe.
Perhaps awe isn’t the best word. It’s whatever word one would use to describe the feeling of knowing your place in the universe by simply being next to something that knows its place.
And The Great Pyramid, having stood for thousands of years, surely knows where it belongs.
That feeling shifts to me as I feel the cool of the stone against my back, the light breeze upon my cheek, the quiet calm of standing with my own two feet on solid ground that is and has been unmoving since the beginning of its time.
As I look around, quite often skyward, I realize that it is awe I feel. Awe of the presence of greatness before me, awe of the history of where I am, awe that after everything, it has all endured and is still standing — defiant, triumphant, unwavering.
There are other extraordinary structures throughout the world and I have stood in the company of many of them — but the Giza pyramid is unique in the experience it imparts. It has a presence that is wholly felt, beneath the shade, by the stone, next to greatness of size and scale.
From the outside, I am small in comparison.
But on the inside — we are the same.