Thursday, February 1, 2018

Steep Stairs

People are made of souls, words and a whole lot of memories. Memories shape our smiles and frowns and leave traces on our faces. Memories of true joy, love and even sorrow never leave our brain. We just store them throughout the years, only to become hard to retrieve, yet never lost.

My memory looks like a giant art gallery or a conference hall: spacious, lit in some parts, dim in others and very vivid.
I keep in the center of the hall my favorite mental images. These special images are placed in fancy frames which are mounted on the walls with a light shed on each one. They include souvenirs with my loved ones and most of my "firsts". The biggest frame belongs to the first time I held my son.


Down memory lane exist rooms, designated for specific people. My husband, mom, sister, niece and nephew, dad, brother, cousins and all my close friends and family have their own room.
These rooms are so big, they can accommodate millions of images and moments. 


And a few steps down the corridor, there is an attic, only accessible through steep stairs.
In that attic in my brain, I have piled up memories I was too afraid to let go of. I hoarded these dusty memories over the years until they became worthless and useless. So it was time to clean up.


I decided to let go of thoughts which no longer served their purpose, reminiscences of people whom I imagined would stay in my life but chose otherwise, and moments that got replaced by better ones. 

I got rid of grudges, sad flashbacks, negative feelings and a bunch of anger.
I threw a huge box of guilt, regret, self blame and anything that would weigh me down.
I destroyed photos, kisses and hugs from people I crossed oceans for but didn't even bother jump a puddle for me. And I moved on.


My attic is now all cleaned up, rearranged with valuable remembrances, happy childhood stories and plenty of positivity.