On The Magic of Memories

Imagine all of your memories upon cards, all of them -- the good, the bad and the ugly. Without any filters, without any judgements, they simply exist before you, tiny pearls that form the necklace that is life. Positive people look back at the good ones more often, they remind themselves and others of everyone's best traits. The pessimists ignore the good ones and keep the bad and ugly cards in easy reach. Thus, they bring them up quickly and with force, surprising others, wounding others, creating negative emotions in those around them. And if you had a choice to keep a few cards, a few memories that you hold dear, and discard the rest, which ones would you choose?

I believe that our memories define us. They make us who we are, and I wouldn’t trade mine for the world. I still remember a picture from my childhood, one of my very favourites. It is one from my first birthday where I can be seen sitting contently on my mother’s lap, not a care in the world. What draws me to it is the look of pure, perfect stillness on my face, as if everything I want in life has been accomplished (and indeed it was — I had my bottle, my mum and it was after all the guests had left :) ). Often, I find myself gazing intently at this photo, as if wanting to get back the care-free nonchalance of childhood. Even today, after a long day, it gives me an immense sense of peace, the realisation that I am not the centre of the world and that there’s much more to life than what we normally perceive.

Sometimes I feel we indeed get too caught up in the hustle and bustle of everyday life, not fully appreciating the mundane joys that surround us. Too often, we simply overlook or take for granted the simple pleasures of life, in fact, these are the ones that make life worth living. It is the happy memories

that sustain us, that carry us through the

challenging times of loss, and remind us that our loving and giving was important and worthwhile. These are the ones to be cherished and kept alive, forever. Be it soft guitar music, the aroma of a loaf rising in the hot oven, clean sheets or some moments of bliss with a friend, happy memories have a way of saving us when nothing else can.

Some memories, like some places, are magic -- a thing you feel as much in your soul as in your mind. The very same ones which you'd want to relieve over and over again for the rest of your life, basking in their gentle warmth. I am truly and utterly convinced that memories have the power to shape us, to uplift and give us hope on the darkest of days, in an almost therapeutic manner. These are what sustain us and nurture us when the going gets tough. forever bearing a promise of better days to come.

"God gave us memories so we might have roses in December"

Then there are those memories that have been long buried in some part of our minds, the painful moments, the hurt, the failure, the loss. These are like shards of glass, the more you hold on, the deeper it cuts. They emerge out of nowhere to haunt you, a family photo, which now speaks of love and loss, that you can’t bear to look at, a favourite toy, that was once dear, which now tells the tale of a hurtful incident. In moments like these, when one is too overwhelmed by the weight of unpleasant memories, I am reminded of these lines from a book “I went back to where it happened. I wanted to take away the power of the painful memory for hurt, prove to myself that I could choose to move on. So I took the one I love the most, my best friend, and on that spot we made a great memory, a happy one. Now when my brain goes back there I divert it only to the good memory, the healing one. It's as if I wrote a good story over the top of a bad story, and in time the ink of the bad story fades away until only the good one remains.” This indeed is something to be kept handy, to remind oneself of what truly matters.

These painful memories are like books with chapters, deep and horrible; and so I leave them on a corner of the shelf to gather dust. We can pick them up if we need to learn something, to gain a perspective that helps me to create our own good stories. We can use them to re-see situations through the lens of their needs and traumas rather than ours. I want today, tomorrow and every tomorrow after to be wonderful; and I have the power to choose what to write on those blank pages.

The negative memories come with a cost, they feel addictive, yet they don’t offer anything of value once they’re experienced and the lessons are learnt. The positive memories come as a dear friend who is fulfilling and nourishing, and always a source of comfort. Hence, we can choose to build ourselves this way, letting the bad ones wander off on their own, yet, acknowledging them and appreciating them for what they are and what they have to offer, and encouraging the good ones to blossom and grow. This way I feel I become confident, well balanced and in control of myself, able to appreciate each moment as a gift and to embrace a positive future that lies ahead of me.

This is what life is about, about balance. A balance of the good and the bad, the negative and the positive. Finding happiness somewhere between too much and too little. Memories give you something to hold on to, something you can revisit over and over again, till every nook and cranny is etched in your mind and the place feels too familiar to be real. These can be a source of comfort, or at times something that you wish to forget.

Whatever these might be, let us build our memories of the best times and forgive the worst, for our future is together. That's the way it is when you love someone, that's the way it has to be. There is no perfect, only perfect for each other. My memories, the good and painful, are photographs — and I can choose what kind of album I wish to build. There's power in that.

-A.