We visited the Walt Disney Family Museum in San Francisco earlier this month, and weeks later, I still keep thinking about it. Not only was it a moving experience, but it also gave me a new metaphor for thinking about a life. About anyone’s life.

The Walt Disney Family Museum was created by Walt’s family as a place to tell the story of Walt, as distinct from Disney the company, and it’s owned by a private non-profit, not by the Disney Corporation. In order to maintain that distinction, it’s located in San Francisco, rather than in Disneyland or Walt Disney World. Walt’s daughter, Diane Disney Miller, didn’t want people to rush through the museum between theme park visits; she wanted people to take the time to explore Walt’s life. In fact, the museum seems much more oriented to adults than to children.

The museum is located in the Presidio, an enormous, beautiful park, and as you walk toward the museum, the Golden Gate Bridge looms in the background.

The two-story building is divided into 10 galleries. Unlike most museums, where you can wander around and see things in any order you wish, there is only one way through this museum, as it tells the story of Walt’s life chronologically, gallery by gallery — sort of like a theme park ride. Each room is filled with fascinating historic objects — the first drawing of Mickey Mouse; colorful paint jars used by Disney animators; a two-story multiplane camera — and there are also plenty of sound recordings and video installations along the way. The museum starts with Walt’s birth and childhood, and then you follow the story as he reaches greater and greater heights: the creation of Mickey Mouse, the Silly Symphonies, the first full-length animated film in history (Snow White). After the lows of World War II – culminating, for the Walt Disney studio, in a labor strike against Walt — he regroups, taking his first steps into live-action films. You learn about his newfound love for miniatures and model railroads.

And then you enter the centerpiece of the museum: an amazing, two-story gallery covering Walt’s greatest decade, the 1950s, when he opened Disneyland and began his groundbreaking weekly TV show. The highlight of this gallery is a stunning scale model of Disneyland, known as “The Disneyland of Walt’s Imagination.” It’s not historically accurate; it doesn’t depict Disneyland at any one particular time, but is more of a composite Disneyland as Walt wanted it to be. Matt and I probably spent 10 to 15 minutes just looking at this model — we’d been to Disneyland itself just two days earlier, so it was especially cool to examine the model.

After the model, you can see clips of Disney’s TV show and the later live-action movies, and explore exhibits on Mary Poppins and Disney’s contributions to the 1964/65 New York World’s Fair. And then… in 1966, Walt dies, way too early, at age 65. There’s a TV clip of an obituary, and a wall of newspaper cartoons expressing sadness over his death.

I had no idea what to expect from this museum, other than that it was a must-see for Disney fans. It was a very profound experience. We wound up spending four hours there, and I didn’t even listen to all the audio or watch every video clip. In fact, somewhere around 1938, in the middle of the Snow White exhibit — not even halfway through the museum — my eyes began to glaze over. But then I got a second wind, and I was riveted again.

I’ve read two biographies of Walt Disney, so it was a weird experience to travel through a physical representation of his life. I felt like I was exploring a book brought to life. It also made me think of a recent article in the New York Times about how to memorize things: one trick is to conjure up a 3D model of a house in your mind and then mentally place the things you want to remember in specific locations throughout the house. Walking through the museum, I felt like I was in someone’s mental map of Walt’s life. I can remember things about his life much more clearly now.

And it makes me wonder what my life would look like if it were laid out as a building. I’m 37, the same age Walt was when Snow White came out. How far through the exhibit of my life would I be right now? How much is behind me and how much more looms ahead? Is there a fantastic two-story gallery in my future — filled not with fame, but with wonderful experiences?

I loved the Walt Disney Family Museum. I hope I can visit it again sometime.