They walk hand-in-hand with emotions, don't they? Without emotions, memories are simply empty words, lifeless pictures. And memories certainly aren't empty or monochromatic.
If they are, they cease to exist outside the cold mental storehouses of forgotten thoughts.
Some memories are best forgotten, people say. I don't know if I agree with that entirely; I find that my memories, even my most painful ones, are the things that help drive me, change me, and form me into a stronger, more beautiful creature. I do know, though, that memories can (and often do) trap me.
The emotions that memories carry have tendril-like fingers. They so easily wrap around your mind, your heart, your senses, lulling (or pulling) you into the belief that the emotion that was has become the emotion that is, which defines you. Memories can thus be seductresses, luring you into a false world, whispering into your ear that
The present is unimportant compared with the joys, the pain, and the perils of your past. The cards you've been dealt, the sorrow you remember and still feel, the happiness that you have or once had are vital to your well-being. This world is all sorrow, but glimpses of happiness await you if you remember, always remember, and never allow the present world to penetrate your stoicism. You are safe if you settle for what you've already been guaranteed -- safe if you never venture into vulnerability. Some of your memories may be painful, but that pain is familiar; the possibility -- no, the probability of new pain isn't worth the risk of wandering into unfamiliar territory...
And so we rely on remembrances to carry us through the days, stumbling about in the dark of the past as we stubbornly refuse to open our eyes and acknowledge the present light that's surrounding us. It's childish, really:
"If I can't see it, it can't see me..."
In other words, it's a lie. And yet I fall for it all the time. Vulnerability is hard to make friends with, and yet it is such a good friend. Wisdom, of course, is necessary where vulnerability with other people is concerned, but let's face it: vulnerability with oneself is rarely, if ever, a negative thing.
I don't know if I'm going in any particular direction with this post... All I know is that I have a lot to remember at this time of year. I suppose I've never stopped remembering, but milestones and anniversaries are especially meaningful to me. See, last year at this time, I was scrambling to prepare for one of the greatest adventures of my life.
A year ago, I didn't have the memories of a beautiful country called Cameroon that I do now, but I did know that I was embarking on a journey that would be unlike anything I could envision. The events leading up to that trip were a collage of memories all their own... and yet they all intertwine beautifully to tell the story of that bit of my life. Those events clicked into sequence like a chain of falling dominoes, but I was left standing at the end -- and not just standing, but boarding a plane to Africa.
I'll be writing more about those memories in the upcoming weeks, you can be certain. My hope, though, is this:
As much as I miss those beautiful people, the red earth of that country, the brilliantly indescribable stars... oh, those stars... I don't want to simply wander in a vacuum of reminiscence. Going to Africa changed me, and the memories that I have from that experience and the past few years continue to do so. (And that's all God, by the way.) I cannot afford, though, to lose myself in the emotions and wishfulness of those memories. Remembering to learn is one thing; remembering to forget the present is another.
"Memories are wonderful, but do you live differently because of them?"
It's impossible to live differently when you trap yourself in a world of what was. God hasn't given me these memories and these emotions to simply shut myself away in a dark, nostalgic world; that would be a waste. My trip to Africa has already brought God glory, but the way that the trip has changed and is changing me is still being brought to fruition.
Yes, I miss it. Yes, I want to go back. I don't know if I will, or even what this all means, but I don't need to yet (even if I do want to know). For now, I'm where God wants me to be -- Colorado -- and I do love it here. And as excited as I am for the new things coming up for me this fall, it's still easy to get distracted by what has been...
I'm exactly where I am right now for a reason, even though I don't know exactly what that reason is. God knows what He's doing, though, and that's more than reason enough to really LIVE.
Eyes open...
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