My tongue is in my hand…

Posted on: October 27, 2009

How much does the past matter? Some people dwell on it, some people move as fast and far as they can from it. There is no living in the past, there is no escaping it. To try to do either will only make you crazy. The past – our personal history, is our preface, it’s the thing that gives specific meaning to our now. In it lies our joy and fear and drive and sadness and hope and anger and every little meaningful moment that marked our decisions, where we have been is part of our story. We should consider it as such.

I like digging into my story and uncovering, remembering, revisiting things from the place I am now, narrating my life as it was from the place I now know of it. I like exploring my motivations, then and now. I like learning myself over. I like considering what I can take from then and apply to now. The things I want to create or seek, the things I want to avoid…the things no one can predict or plan…how I dealt, what I’ve gathered and let go of along the way, what I know by holding close to my heart and mind all the pages of my story that I can.

So much can be gained from reflection, without changing or wishing changed the things that were, that are unchangable. To understand the person we have been in the world we were in and how it moved us in whatever directions it has…there’s no way to gauge how well this serves me.

I kept all my journals, tons of letters, notes, ticket stubs, cards, and pictures through the years. I keep fresh in my heart the things that stick out most. I know the facts, my “on paper” facts of my life and I know all the other things…the parts of my heart and mind that only I know, and how it all goes together. I’m probably going to start blogging some mini memoir things, because I bet writing it out will bring even more to it.

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