I am a curator of memories
Jun. 3rd, 2022 09:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chasmodaiI recently was attending an online group meditation with some long-time friends via zoom. The meditation triggered strong memories of past gatherings - the smell of wet grass and bonfire smoke mixed with incense, voices singing harmonies, sweet wine, soft hugs, and sparkling eyes. More than sight, smell, taste, and touch, there is the emotional sensation, like the feeling when the circle is cast and the mundane world seems to disappear.
I treasure these memories now, and they mean more to me than things. Sometimes I review them in my mind, almost as if I am taking inventory.
I remember the day we went to the movies as a family. We saw Spiderman, and my son Logan was about six. He rode out of the theater on my husband's shoulders, his legs stretched straight out in front of him like Spiderman flying through the air, and as they traveled through the lobby of the theater, my son "webbed" everyone they passed, pointing the heel of his hand at people, squealing with glee. As he "webbed" people, they smiled, their faces lighting up at his joy.
This past Mother's Day, we went to the garden center to buy flats of flowers to put out in planters on our front deck, and I will always cherish the feeling of quiet contentment that I felt as my husband and two of my sons silently worked beside me planting the flowers.
I will always remember being a small child and playing with my friend Fran. I will always remember her expression when her eyes lit up as we were playing. It was the first time in my life I ever noticed a person's eyes lighting up, and I remember how that made me feel.
Not all memories are pleasant. However, I think all of them are important. I also think that sometimes when people have trouble letting go of things, what they are really assigning value to is what those things represent. I think that those things represent memories. It's the memories that matter.
I treasure these memories now, and they mean more to me than things. Sometimes I review them in my mind, almost as if I am taking inventory.
I remember the day we went to the movies as a family. We saw Spiderman, and my son Logan was about six. He rode out of the theater on my husband's shoulders, his legs stretched straight out in front of him like Spiderman flying through the air, and as they traveled through the lobby of the theater, my son "webbed" everyone they passed, pointing the heel of his hand at people, squealing with glee. As he "webbed" people, they smiled, their faces lighting up at his joy.
This past Mother's Day, we went to the garden center to buy flats of flowers to put out in planters on our front deck, and I will always cherish the feeling of quiet contentment that I felt as my husband and two of my sons silently worked beside me planting the flowers.
I will always remember being a small child and playing with my friend Fran. I will always remember her expression when her eyes lit up as we were playing. It was the first time in my life I ever noticed a person's eyes lighting up, and I remember how that made me feel.
Not all memories are pleasant. However, I think all of them are important. I also think that sometimes when people have trouble letting go of things, what they are really assigning value to is what those things represent. I think that those things represent memories. It's the memories that matter.
