Memory Traits

Have you realised how much we have become impatient with everything? 

A sculpture designed by a Spanish artist. Taken by me.
In Antibes, France

Think about those moments when you sit in front of a computer, ah no, maybe moments holding your phones, and 3-5 seconds of page loading or the length of texts might already push you to do something else. At least, I am sure speaking from myself.

Some days were so much packed, I did not have enough time to even finish a catch-up conversation with a friend. What I have realised about being busy is that, such satisfied feeling of having purposes is addicted. There are goals to look forward to, there are projects to be done, there are meetings to go to, there are posters to be created and there are social media posts to be updated, for example. You don’t get to wonder why you do this, you just do it because time is limited, and deadlines are waiting. You don’t replay your life in your head like playing a video recorder file on computer, because when there is free time, you spend for sleeping, or hanging out with friends you haven’t had time to do with. At least, that was my life before I got burnt out.

Then, there was that moment when I was forced to stop, and started wondering. This wondering has lasted longer than I expected it to be, unfortunately.

But, this wondering transformed my head into a movie player of my memories. If you are fan of Grey Anatomy like I am, you might remember this sentence someone said in there, “how amazing memory works”.

In Jyvaskyla, Finland

Memory flashes back, not fully, we mix things up and we filter certain things. When only good parts come out, some will call it a result of nostalgia, or grief. To me, it is like a path full of traits. One step you take, you might stumble onto a trait, which will soon either turn to be a picture or even a whole book’s chapter containing parts of my life within. Some moments, memories are so vivid that they became strangers to me. My self-consciousness kick in and I wonder if I am acquainted with the girl in my memory movie.

Today, I sat quite long under the rain, in the middle of forest. I walked long under the rain too, but I am not sure why this detail matters to you. So, I was there, staring in that empty areas of the air, tried to unburden myself with every single rain drop touching and sliding on my face. My memory went back to those days when I was this little kid running around with other kids under the rain, naked. It was our excitement act when we knew it was going to rain. I recalled myself being all hyper about the rain back then. We would run around, made these big laughs when we stood under any big water pipes that poured a huge amount of water on us. We would feel dirty and fresh at the same time. We would not bother screaming a bit more because the rain’s sound had blocked other people’s ears. Then, our parents would call us all in since the longer we stayed, the higher chance we would lie on beds next days. We were like those growing flowers needed fresh touch of water, besides the harsh sun shining. Then, I thought about me being a teenager and began to look at rain in more sad ways. Rain then became a symbol of hiding tears that cannot be shown in public. Rain then became a mysterious, romantic but sad ending for any kinds of broken childish relationships.

I even recalled me not liking the rain for a period of time. Reason for it, I cannot remember. It might have been I have had enough of grey colour and gloominess living in Finland, London and the Netherlands. But the rain was the first difference I noticed after moving to Finland for a month, because it was different there even though it was also so much the same. My life was taking a turn.

The rain was there too when I had to bike home fast from school in the Netherlands, while the wind kept slowing me down. Some days or weeks later, the rain remained but I was not alone.

I got soaked wet in the rain also biking home fast from a morning shift at work in Finland, during last autumn. When I reached home, my tiredness took over all my body. I quickly took out my clothes, changed to dry home clothes and crawled into the bed, under warm blankets, preparing for a good sleep. Those moments were extremely good, because my sleep was not bothered by disturbing images.

Today, the rain was there, slowly filling into my emptiness.

In Mandelieu, France

I thought about “memory movie player” because I was amazed how much I got to rewind back to my lives now, while there was time everything just got slipped by so fast that I did not even think twice. I opened one of my journals, and I saw this small paragraphs I wrote about this same thing, but not with rain; it was with a part of road I took to go home. It was on one of last nights in Finland, months ago. That road brought me back to the time while I was still working for AIESEC and biking through the path for like 1000 times. Few steps further, I was brought back to the night of LAS seminar—an event of AIESEC—the night I first started to talk to Jo. Many more steps further up, I turned to look at the lake view in my city, allowed its extravagant beauty to hug me. I recalled me thinking to myself “You only start to appreciate things in a positive way when you have to say goodbye“.



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