“The sweetest memories are the ones we weren’t trying to make.”
– – – Anonymous
When we embark on a spiritual path, there are directives to forget about the past and breathe into the present moment. I understand the concept, but for me, this is missing a crucial step. Remembering the past can a powerful tool to make the present a kinder and more compassionate place to be.
I was sitting at my desk in my office yesterday, wondering, Who is this person in front of the computer? How did I find this house? What did I do to get myself here? What did I not do that would have taken me on an entirely different path? What comes next? I might live many more years. I have a friend whose father is 105. Or I could be gone in five minutes. It’s the conundrum of living in the “I don’t know.”
When
we were isolated during Covid, I walked around my house, looking at things that took me back in time. Remembering the past while I was in the present was helpful and informing. I savored the memories that were triggered by a smell, a taste, an object, an article of clothing or a feeling. A hand beaded eagle feather that I traded with a Native American medicine man. A bottle of holy oil blessed by a
Philippine faith healer with whom I studied healing. A stuffed toy lamb I bought for my mother in a hospital gift shop when she was recovering from cataract surgery. A crystal collection that I gathered over time and made the atmosphere feel cool and clean.
Each object tickled my senses. The holy oil brought me back to the Philippine healers where I could smell the burning sugar cane on the plantations. My book about Kenny Loggins brought back music he played for me before it was released. A book I wrote about a legendary diva made me think about her idly humming one
of her massively bestselling songs.
Perhaps the most triggering of all was when I opened the door to my linen closet and saw two pairs of pink pointe shoes with shiny satin ribbons, sitting on a narrow shelf. I picked up a pair and inhaled the scent of cardboard, satin and glue. It brought me back to the ballet studio. The scent of Jean Nate cologne wafting out of the dressing room. The menthol smell of Ben Gay we
used on sore muscles. We always had sore muscles.
I remembered lying on the floor before class each morning, clasping my leg with my hands, lifting it over my head and pulling it down to the ground behind me. A few days earlier, I’d been lying on my back in my living room on a yoga mat, doing the same thing, a little less flexible but pretty good after all these many years. I remembered standing in the wings, dripping in sequins, jeweled tiaras, rhinestone earrings and tulle tutus while we waited to “enter, stage left.”
“Andrea,” my trainer called out. I snapped back into my body.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m here.”
I had time traveled into the past and brought back with me the feelings and lessons I learned.
The point here is that I think going into a past memory gets a bad rap. Granted, it can make us feel stuck at times, it can stop us from living in the moment, but it can also show us what we’ve done and what we took with us. What we are capable of, what we want to repeat and what we want to never do again. When I start working on a book and I feel overwhelmed, remembering the past is a great
tool. At the suggestion of a mentor of mine, I framed the covers of the many books I’ve written and hung them on the wall as a reminder. When I look at each one separately, thousands of words fly into the atmosphere and I tell myself, “I’ve done it before. I can do it again.”
It’s as if a silent movie is replaying over and over and I start remembering details. How did I feel when I wrote this book? Was it difficult or easy? Was it some of both? Was I happy or sad? Clear or confused? What have I taken from that time and used as inspiration? It’s like finding a lost piece of a puzzle and fitting it into a place in the present that completes the whole. It can inform the now and show me how to be kinder to myself. There are things I regret that I can avoid repeating. There are thing that I celebrate that I can take pleasure in doing all over again.
Past memories have helped me create a kinder and more satisfying present. They give me hope for the future. They can help me see where my wounds are, how they got there and how to heal them. After making mistakes and acting in ways that were hurtful to me, I can choose a different way to be. When I don’t criticize or judge myself for my past experiences, I can find compassion there that makes my life a kinder place to be right now.
Pema Chodron says that the concept of feeling regret and wishing we were something or someone different are acts of aggression against ourselves.\
I agree with her. I use my memories not to criticize or judge myself but rather to have compassion for the young girl who was trying to make her way in the world. I like the concept of watching history morph into a different kind of memory that will help us build a more promising future.
Award winning author, Tom Robbins, wrote, “It’s never too late too late to have a happy childhood.”
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