Stories

I've let so many meaningful moments slip away. I'd like to say that life has been so astounding that it hardly leaves room for anything other than itself. But it's more likely a story of laziness.

So, why return to this now desolate landscape? Because the contextualization of memories plays an important role in developing an identity. Some memories evoke pain and serve as reminders of what I'm capable of doing in my darker moments. These must never be forgotten. Some point me in the direction of the life well-lived. Some serve as landmarks, marking off important points of growth and change. Some have provided insights that, if not intentionally pursued, will fade away.

But some are meaningful in ways that can't be quantified - don't need to be quantified. They may not serve as a reminder, a guide-post, a landmark, or an insight, but my identity is tangled up with them nonetheless.

And I don't want to forget.