The National Archives in Washington houses the Constitution, Bill of Rights, and Declaration of Independence. (Image: Kathryn Reed)

For the second time in my life I was drawn to something sacred without really understanding what was going on. I went with the pull, following whatever force was guiding me.

The first time was Sept. 11, 2001. Yes, that day. I was at Machu Picchu in Peru; a destination during my four-month solo foray through South America.

I kept being pulled back to the most sacred temple at these Inca ruins. I stood before it. I sat. I wrote in my journal. I kept returning.

I had no idea what was going on in the United States—or anywhere else. I didn’t know until I was leaving on the bus. Someone heard (and I have no idea how) a plane had hit the Twin Towers in New York and people had died. Well, sure, I thought, of course anyone aboard a small plane would lose in that scenario.

There was a transportation strike going on, which made the last leg of getting back to my hotel via taxi a bit harrowing. I thought I had something really interesting to write home about. But somehow I was getting the feeling whatever was going on in New York was even a bigger deal.

Once back at the hotel I asked the proprietors to put CNN on in English. They looked at me like “she doesn’t know.” They were right. I had no idea.

The world changed that day, and not for the better.

The original U.S. Constitution at the National Archives in Washington. (Image: Kathryn Reed)

The second pull came last month, on Jan. 16. I had to see the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, and the Declaration of Independence. Not replicas. The real things. And so I went to the Archives of the United States of America in Washington, D.C.

In this dimly lit room people spoke in hushed voices like we were in a sacred room. I’d like to think we were.

They are remarkable documents. They are powerful, profound and personal. They should be personal for all of us. They should be the North Star for all of us.

Four days later the chaos of Donald Trump’s second term started. His decisions are rattling a lot of us. They are definitely affecting all of us.

I keep returning to the photos I have of those three documents, to the memory of being in the room with them. I’m struggling to have faith their words will prevail, that we the people will not let democracy crumble with one executive order after another, that electeds will remember their oath is to the Constitution and not to any one person.

I’m scared and sad. Full of rage and sorrow.

I believe in those documents. I just wish I believed in people to do the right thing.