The Never Ending Past

We had begun our four hour pilgrimage bright and early. The only thing I knew was that we (the class) would be spending the day in Florence, which, of course, was good enough for me. Like many foreigners who visit the breathtaking city of Florence, I was content to hang around the main parts (namely, the area surrounding the Duomo.) Already, there is so much to see there. The city is full of interesting things to do, so I was, admittedly, a bit disappointed to learn that our actual destination would be a nice, long, sweaty, uphill hike to a place I knew - and had heard - nothing about.

The city changed a lot as we got farther from the center. Flowers and trees began to claim their territory, old stone stairways eventually became our roads, and every backward glance offered an entirely new surprise. I had chosen a horrible day to wear jeans, it was true, but it had all been worth it once we reached our destination. Miniato al Monte, an 11th century church, sat solitary in a courtyard, overlooking what seemed to be the entire city of Florence.

It's difficult to describe the feeling that comes over me when I come across structures of such antiquity, especially those that, at some point (if not still,) held a great amount of spiritual significance for the locals. I am not religious, but have always been fascinated by the symbolic similarities one can find between such establishments, despite the differences in culture, location, and beliefs. So it was truly a treat to find that the church I stood in possessed so many symbols that would have been common-place in the ancient, pagan world. In fact, in my experience, it is rare to find so many within, what one would call, a Christian establishment.

Human nature does not change easily, if at all. As Carl G. Jung had so successfully proven, the unconscious mind produces and communicates through symbols, independent of our will or conscious intent. Dreams are a good example of this. So I was not all that surprised to find the plethora of mandalas that littered the walls, nor the large zodiac on the floor, nor the symbol that, long ago, was used to represent the union between solar and lunar forces - the circle squared, then circled again - scattered around the room. I was reminded of the story about the Egyptian Neophyte who, upon returning from a journey to Rome, departed to his fellow initiates that the barbaric Christians worshiped animals. An understandable misconception that could likely be made when looking at the symbolism of many cultures and religions. Buildings such as the one I stood in never fail to inspire a sense of longing inside of me; the desire to understand myself and the psychology of man as a whole. They hold within their walls an unfathomable number of stories, some of which have been told for ages, and others that have yet to be heard. Structures like Miniato al Monte, which (seemingly) drew their inspiration from a variety of cultural sources, remind us to pay close attention to the universality of internal experiences and the symbols that such experiences -always have, and always will - produce. Try as we might, we can never rid ourselves of what we are and what it is that grips us, no matter where we're from.