Tyl Ro
The Anti(Hipster)-Cynic
When looking to the future, a common practice was to reflect on the past. By observing the achievements and mistakes of earlier generation's previous attempts, it was possible to gain a perspective that had previously not been considered. If a path led to failure before, was it still doomed to fail? If a path led to success, were the gains worth the journey? Consequences and sacrifices made by the galaxy's ancestors at the time might have seemed to be of value to the situation they faced, but when looked upon by the objective eyes of the galaxy's descendants, did that value still hold merit? Even if events between the two times were dissimilar, the events themselves were often inconsequential. How wars were fought and won or lost, how treaties were conceived and ratified or terminated. The names and places and things that filled historical annals of heroes and villains, battles and documents, all were crude descriptions of a much more luminous exchange: the exchange of emotion and of thought.
For much of her life, Tyl had believed that this kind of reflection was beneficial to one's own progression. If she was able to tap into the universe's collective experience, experience that far outweighed the amount she would ever reach in her singular lifetime, then the Kaminoan could gain understanding. She would be able to approach a situation and assess it objectively, as she had done with the galaxy's history, and devise an informed solution, one that properly weighed the multitudes of possible outcomes. Tyl relied on the belief that time worked in cycles. Both strife and peace were recurring motives. Even change and revolution were part of that cycle. While they were not entirely predictable, a path could always be uncovered for any impasse. Reflecting on the past was a crucial tool for uncovering that proper path.
The Jedi was becoming less sure of her previous certainty.
The woman sat on a rocky mountainside, her gaze scanning a horizon filled with more mountains, ranges stretching out in front of her. From the peaks to the basins the landscape was painted with a myriad of reds, oranges, and browns. Behind her sat some well-trafficked ruins, picked over time and again by treasure hunters, archaeologists, and tourists. The stone structures were once meeting places where Jedi gathered. The buildings had been carved out of the rock faces of the mountains. Despite their sturdy design, millennia prior, the structures were reduced to rubble in an assault on the world. Many things had been left behind, but after so long, debris was the only thing remaining. Debris and remembrance.
[member="Travot Ravenna"]
For much of her life, Tyl had believed that this kind of reflection was beneficial to one's own progression. If she was able to tap into the universe's collective experience, experience that far outweighed the amount she would ever reach in her singular lifetime, then the Kaminoan could gain understanding. She would be able to approach a situation and assess it objectively, as she had done with the galaxy's history, and devise an informed solution, one that properly weighed the multitudes of possible outcomes. Tyl relied on the belief that time worked in cycles. Both strife and peace were recurring motives. Even change and revolution were part of that cycle. While they were not entirely predictable, a path could always be uncovered for any impasse. Reflecting on the past was a crucial tool for uncovering that proper path.
The Jedi was becoming less sure of her previous certainty.
The woman sat on a rocky mountainside, her gaze scanning a horizon filled with more mountains, ranges stretching out in front of her. From the peaks to the basins the landscape was painted with a myriad of reds, oranges, and browns. Behind her sat some well-trafficked ruins, picked over time and again by treasure hunters, archaeologists, and tourists. The stone structures were once meeting places where Jedi gathered. The buildings had been carved out of the rock faces of the mountains. Despite their sturdy design, millennia prior, the structures were reduced to rubble in an assault on the world. Many things had been left behind, but after so long, debris was the only thing remaining. Debris and remembrance.
[member="Travot Ravenna"]