What’s it look like? How do you get there?
My memories aren’t kept on a street that I wander down and peruse. Instead I keep them in a box on a shelf that I sort and scatter because that’s more according to the way I think. My memories aren’t this pretty string of moments that flow together in a neat slideshow. They are usually not in order and fragmented and broken, with random parts remaining. I have notes from friends from years ago, birthday cards that made me laugh, photos of faces I haven’t seen in ages, and flowers pressed from fields far away. There are knick-knacks that have accumulated that I can’t bear to throw away because they remind me of days that were simpler and unsophisticated. I like looking back and thinking about what I was like in different moments of my life because it gives me more of an appreciation for who I am now having gone through such things. I wish I could go back and tell my younger self some things, but all that would do is prevent me from learning lessons I really needed to know. So I keep tokens and treasures to remind me that it wasn’t all problems and mistakes, but that, within difficult circumstances, there were pieces of hope and solace to be found always.