Wednesday, January 16, 2013

The child you once were.

I can easily picture the child I once were. I can almost go back in time to each of my ages before 29 and remember large chunks of what took place each year. Hell, I remember when I used to go down the line of every teacher I’ve had from college to kindergarten. So I flex my memory--always have. I keep junk in my trunk dated back to many yester-years. Things that I cannot throw away because I am afraid that I won’t remember the memories they possess, as if I won’t remember me. See, there comes a time when you don’t feel like anyone else will keep up with your life and how special you feel about yourself. So you, as a friend to yourself, do so. You begin to hold on to everything that you feel makes you you. You hope that one day everyone else will see it.

So I can remember how I reacted to some past events and, when I think even deeper, what I learned from them that affect me today. I can trace some of the negative and positive influences that have grown in me. And some I absolutely can not.

Some memories are stronger than others. So while I can remember the child I once were, I also see that I haven’t changed too much at the core. Nevertheless, as I sit here and ponder this question even further, it only leads me deeper into certain regrets and anger-inducing issues that I have been fighting over the years. Things I wish were said and done to assist me in being who I want to be, who I hoped to be at the current stage of my life. However, we have to let all of that go and just focus on the future. The past is the past. And time truly is short. When two years ago feel like two months ago you start to feel as if there hasn’t been any growth in your life. But there has. If you can recognize this feeling then you just have to trust that you’re getting closer to who you want to be, because you’ve taken an assessment and are seeking modifications. Some people let years go by before they look back and realize that they ignored those moments that asks them to look back and make modifications.

For one day I was in a class teaching something to the degree of being a successful college student. My teacher was a Tony Robbins kind of guy. The kind of guy I needed so badly in my life that it hurts to think about the void. He spoke real life facts and motiviated us to understand the importance of a college education. At the end of the class he went around the room and asked each of us what did we take from class that day. When he came to me I knew exactly what it was that I wanted to say. It had stuck with me during the entire class. When I spoke it the teacher's eyes lit up. It was extremely simple and true...

"Life is about memories."

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