attachment, 6 // memories

What is a writer without memories? I often say that I write because I remember so much, so many details that I have to exorcise somehow else I’ll burst.

And yet the relief is momentary. There is always something more to write, some angle that was not yet examined or could be examined further.

Memory is what I am. Memory takes up no physical space. It is an asset, quite often, to remember things. To be able to carry memories around.

But attachment to memory can be a burden. Or, I should say, fixation is a burden. To be fixated on what was, on who I was, on where I was, on what happened, on what I thought would happen, on the sequence of events that lead me to my particular present.

I wonder what it would be like to let go of remembering. To let go of all that was. There is something that feels scary about it. Unanchored, unsettled. Adrift. I don’t necessarily want to be adrift. I just don’t want to feel trapped.

There are parts of me that I have to let go. There are memories which have unreasonable power over me. The constant comparison and contrast of past and present can infringe upon potential futures. I want to own the past, I want to be here in the present, and I want to be open to the future.

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5 thoughts on “attachment, 6 // memories

  1. The Lesbian In The Dress says:

    Wow, this is amazing. It resonates with me so deeply, I honestly shivered at the words and how much I could relate. I have been contemplating that lately as well, I enjoy the memories and the fact that I can relive a feeling as though it is still happening, but another part of me worries that I can’t move on if I don’t allow the memories to fade. Maybe it’s just about focusing a different feeling on that memory, and emphasizing the good instead of the bad, if that’s possible of course. Sometimes I fear losing the depth of feelings I have experienced, including the pain, I don’t relive them often but I still enjoy the ability to when I’m writing. Thank you so much for sharing, in love with your post.

    • Narinda says:

      There’s a romanticization of that reliving process, and of torment. I can be so seductive to live in that. And exhausting. I wonder whether we ever finish writing about them. I think I’ve written about some things enough that I don’t get as caught up in the actual emotions (and a few things, I’ve even gotten tired of writing about), but the memories are still there. Appreciate your thoughts. Also, quite a blog name you have there. I look forward to browsing.

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