Memories, past, present and future

Memories, what is a memory really? Is it a truth or a lie? Is it fact? Or none of these things? Memories, we all have them both in our bodies and in our mind. Our soul holds the truth of the thing. For does not a memory get twisted and turned? Parts of it become out of time sequence, the events themselves become sharper or dull with time depending upon the emotion that the whole event invokes. Then of course we throw in the reflection of times as we “look” back or forward to how the event may have effected us; and at each reflection does not the event or the idea of the event have a touch of a different slant; for we ourselves are changed by “it” and all that has come after. The event it self is changed in so much as we are by looking at and having it “look” back at us.

Memories, I am no longer sure that even the memory that the body holds is to the point, the meat of the thing possibly. Here to I believe it gets a little turned, the light shining through it shifts, as we reflect back on the event, or as someone else, who was there tells it in THEIR memory version. Then the way society tells us we should feel about something also gets to mix it up a bit. Truth, fact fiction? A touch of it all. What causes us to reflect back or forward to take apart, “work” , and “what if” a memory. To attempt to pull apart the thread in the tapestry that is us. Why does it become important to understand the event to look from all sides of the reflection? Then I also wonder are we ever able to really re – “create” in our minds eye the fact; just the facts of a “memory”? Are we capable of doing such a thing?
Same event 4 people, four different truths, even with two - can it be instant replayed? The same with two set of eyes, ears, feelings, linear time? What if one person then dies; how is the memory then held by the one? How much of who we are gets lost as people who know us die ? When we are the only one left with parts of a memory?

I love the sensation of the memory, the feeling of the whole thing, not the “Who Done It’s”. Sometimes, I like to take the smell or the touch of a memory and hold it to my heart, forget all the details, holding only enough of them to bring the smell, the taste, the touch, the sound, the sightedness of colour or shape, the sensation into a clarity. That’s the gift of a memory, the ability to gently rock me, or to have it throw me to the wolves so to speak.

Being “thrown to the wolves”, doesn’t make the memory a “bad” thought or sensation. It’s clarity such that I am transported to a place out of the present linear time, spiraling back to a place deep within. Though here too I will also state that YES, there are memories that I am torn and ripped, eaten, chewed and spit out again. This too offer up a tid-bit, something to work, to unravel and reweave.

Sit back who needs TV; unfold a memory! Like a good book ~ they become dog-eared, quotes that stick with you through time. Some stories/memories never grow old even in the retelling. Much laughter and warmth filling the space. Besides, they are the essence of how we become WHO it is that we are.

Which of these might invite us to a deeper understanding and healing? Given the opportunity to share it and sit with what comes up? And how often might we allow and honour a memory for the gifts that it has given? The moment in time so etched in our mind.
Sitting in the quiet, a Breath, and the memory we chose unfolds......