How many generations fill you as you read these words, in this moment?
If you are about twenty-five, have you heard stories from a grandparent about her or his grandparent? That would give you five generations.
If you are about seventy, did you hear stories from your grandparents about their grandparents; and do you have grandchildren whom you talk to? That gives you a whopping seven generations.
Of course, you can be filled with generations through unrelated people, and that happens all the time, mostly without conscious thought.
If (when?) you are alive to this constant filling, I wonder if you feel the expansive exhilaration I do, a kind of “skydiving,” dizzying knowing seeing being in time-words-images.
Interestingly, I never sense a symmetrical process of depletion, though generational matter juxtaposed with other generational matter does seem to blur, shift, bank up, and ebb.