If I could go back and witness any moment in history, I initially thought I should choose something suitably Important. A presidential inauguration. A great military victory. The signing of some document that changed the world.

Then I realized, absolutely not.

I don’t want to witness an assassination. I don’t want to watch people die. And honestly, I don’t need to stand around while a bunch of men sign a document.

I think I’d go to November 9, 1989, the night the Berlin Wall came down.

Not because I particularly want to watch a wall being demolished. I want to watch the people.

I want to see the moment when something that had seemed permanent suddenly wasn’t. The confusion. The disbelief. The laughter. The tears. Strangers hugging. People climbing onto the wall. People chipping away pieces of it to take home. People realizing, perhaps for the first time, that history isn’t actually inevitable.

Because that’s what fascinates me about history. The psychological moment before people understand that everything has changed.

Imagine standing there and knowing that tomorrow’s world is going to be different from yesterday’s but nobody quite knows what that world will look like yet.

I think I’d want to be in the crowd, listening to people talk, watching their faces, wondering what they were thinking.

And probably thinking the most psychologically interesting thought of all:

Holy wow. The world just changed.

And then I’d probably want a piece of the wall.