AtoZ/Day14 - letter M

M is for Memories.  I find memories to be a two-edged sword.  One edge is dull and safe to play with; the other edge will cut the hell out of me with very little effort.  But, the truth is: I wouldn't trade the sword for much, if anything (even if the craftsman is obviously a damn lunatic).
Memories are like the journal that life keeps for us, on our behalf.  We can flip through the pages at will, or sometimes it just falls off the ol' mental shelf and opens to a certain page.  Some pages -both painful and beautiful- are ear-marked, because we return to them often.  Other pages are glued together, the message unavailable, repressed.  If we really consider the power that our memories have over us, we might find ourselves curled in fetal position under the covers, sucking our thumbs and shivering.  But, we may also find ourselves in a deep stare, smiling outwardly at re-emerging images with a sincerity and vulnerability that many of us only uncloak by accident, in the grip of a happy moment gone-by.  Yet, if we keep in mind that they are memories -the realest of the unreal, but unreal just the same- we can better determine how we let them influence the moment (the only real thing we've got) and all that fills it.
The thing is, though, most people's journals have pages that are worn so thin, they are almost transparent.  Sadly, in many instances, these are the pages that hold the most pain and regret.  We turn to them again and again, in search of some punishment or remedy that isn't there...not on those pages, anyway.  The only remedy lies in the opportunity to fill the blank pages that remain with renewed strength and knowledge gained -compliments of the pain and regret.  And as for the punishment: it is not now, nor has it ever been a requirement.  We can use the Tree of Life to sustain the paper on which to record new hope and love and happiness, and the inevitable shit-smear and tear-stain; OR we can use the Tree of Life as a resource for the materials needed to crucify ourselves.  It's our choice.  It's always been our choice.  It will never not be our choice.
We touch a flame, and it burns.  We retain the memory so we know that if we touch a flame, we will get burned.  We should not regret the memory; we should not be punished again and again for a burn we already suffered.  We keep the good memories for the joy and love they bring to the moment.  As long as the lesson(s) from the bad memories exist with us in any given moment, there is no need to keep returning to the memory, itself; it's been recorded, and served its purpose.  We should not regret the memory that teaches any more than the memory that embraces. 
Life is short; our stories are brief.
We cannot lose ourselves to the past; we can only lose the moment.
Memories mark time.  They do not stop it.