Voices. Clear skies. The ground beneath our feet. Homemade breakfast. Pages of a book. Silly arguments. Gazing. The most recent headlines that have been trending throughout the media can be an earnest reminder of how an abundance of the little things in life are too easily taken for granted. The past and the present do not hold any sort of steady correlation when we take into account “change” as a consistent variable. One cannot fully absorb the essence of today whilst attempting to resurrect the former chapters of one’s story.
As we grow older and have more years of experiential learning behind us, I think we sometimes unknowingly overlook the greatness that is presented to us at this moment in time for whatever reason it may be — baggage, the past that does not stray too far from us, bygones. But the reality of the situation is that the past is the past for a reason. We should never spoil what we have today because of the mistakes we made at a different time or due to circumstances that were once beyond our control and, subsequently, conclusions that are now etched in place and cannot be modified.
I think one of the areas that holds much difficulty for many people is being able to let go of the past because so much of our history and younger days become a part of who we are. Why else would certain songs, insiders and movie scenes cause repressed memories to suddenly reignite in our heads? Why else would we keep stashes of memorabilia consisting of post-its, letters, music records, and movie ticket stubs of a time and place that we are now unaccustomed to? These keepsakes evidently hold their own subtle purport that is cast in the shadows of years we tend to relate mainly beautiful memories to.
When people are deeply delved in despondency or even outrage, they often cease to understand that so much of life entails yielding to the notion of acclimation. In fact, part of the living experience is grasping the concept of “turning the page.” When certain things appear unbearable, it becomes the minute aspects that we have to take control of and learn to circumvent these tasks before we can tackle them head-on. With time and age and the all-naturally proceeding wisdom that follows, I think it becomes that much more easier for humans to infer that certain episodes in life are just that–episodes. The better part of us is yet to come, more often than not.
Who can honestly admit that they have not been stuck in a rut in their life for a period of time that was drawn out longer than it should have been? But perhaps, that is the only way to really deduce one’s “reasoning” and ultimately come to the point where gracefully moving on to a new day becomes the only right thing to do. And I say “reasoning” because matters of the heart cannot always be reasoned with, as far as sensible thinking goes. We can only remind ourselves that all these tiny blunders are quite alright. Ironically, the longer one stays amidst depression and vanity, the more stout one metamorphoses into as ammunition is fired away on several occasions through life.
Hope, for me, lies in not knowing what will come of tomorrow but being more than content with life in its current state. I think the same goes for many but hope is a funny thing in that it can be dispersed if given with the most comforting words and a hand to lend. Maybe some pages cannot always be turned alone. Perhaps the imbibed morals of the yesteryear somehow stir up an abyss so large to settle in, if it were not for another heartwarming presence to fill the void.
Whether one’s beliefs stand rooted in religious or scientific conjecture, the idea of cosmogony did stay afloat speculations of the origins of our universe and it was believed by many that this existence included more than one in number.