I am amazed by the minds ability to replay past events. In the course of an ordinary day, something someone says or does will bring me back seven or eight years, and I can relive an event as if it were happening today. The intensity fades over time but the emotional surge can still be quick and powerful as on the day the remembered event occurred.
The difference between the event and the remembered event is the framing and perspective offered by time. The remembered events benefit from the frame and perspective of interpretation informed both by hindsight and emotional maturity.
Maybe the gift in memory is that the wounds of the past turned out to have been pregnant with the possibilities of a future reality shaped and made possible only by the wounds we suffered. Do I then covet the wounds or glibly tell myself in the middle of crisis that "what doesn't kill me makes me stronger?" No, mostly I'm glad I lived to tell the tale, but I wish I didn't have such interesting stories.
I've been informed that at least one friend thinks I post some weird stuff and that it is very strange that people should share their thoughts on such personal subjects with such a wide audience. Next week, I'll talk about my underwear, just for you, I promise.
I've been informed that at least one friend thinks I post some weird stuff and that it is very strange that people should share their thoughts on such personal subjects with such a wide audience. Next week, I'll talk about my underwear, just for you, I promise.
