“Memory is the diary we all carry about with us” – Oscar Wilde
Our memories make us who we are. Our experiences and choices throughout our journeys all lead us to this very present moment when I am writing this and you are reading it. If you woke up tomorrow with all of your memories erased, who would you be? What would your personality be like if not completely different without your very own unique memories which branded you.
The memories we choose to keep, the ones our mind protects and stores, imprint on us. Whether they are joyful or desolate memories; our mind carefully selects moments to announce particular memories back into the forefront of our thoughts.
How peculiar that memories can be relative. What was once regarded as a beautiful and sacred memory, lovingly reminisced, can turn into the most painful and unbearable remembrance, pushed away and wished never to be brought to mind. One turn of events can reverse the category of a memory.
How bizarre that our own minds can torture us with unwanted memories at times and at other times self-preservation mobilises; rendering some memories irretrievable.
How frustrating that there are many memories which have escaped us,never to be retrieved again. So many years without a second glance at those memories so they slipped away unnoticed by you. You know the outline of the memory, of that moment you want to revisit, but everything in between is a blur. The words you want to hear again will never be replayed, the eyes you wanted to look into again are closed for good.
Yet even more frustrating is those memories you long to forget. you long for them to vanish from the archives of your mind. The more you want them gone, the more they resist and cling to every thread of your being. So you learn to live with them and you cope, with enforced strength, when something triggers those uninvited memories.
Sometimes we look back at ourselves and don’t recognise that person. Our experiences and memories have changed us subtly or sometimes drastically but we don’t realise without retrospection. Who will we be, will we recognise ourselves after the memories we are yet to make?