So I have a box of random memories, problems to sort in the future. But luckily, they only have to matter to me, and the moment that they cease to, it will be ok to let them go. But for now, I can't be so sure what clips of Japan I'll wish I could come across again. Perhaps it will be best to let them go a little latter, to let the past touch me a little longer.
Saturday, June 27, 2015
I found some pictures of my apartment in Japan before I moved in, or as I was moving in. So clean and untouched. And I spent the day trying to get a few steps closer to bringing it back that state. A lot of things have to go. Two boxes and two suitcases will be my life moving forward from here (hopefully). It seems manageable. I realized that I've moved 7 times in my life. This is number 8. As I go through bits of paper, ticket stubs, boarding passes, cards and notes, I realize that I've been living happily without them for the past year or two or three. And yet the feeling of nostalgia that arises in me when I see them and can touch being in a place and time again, makes me think I need them. It's a strange thing that life isn't just moving forward. In reality, I suppose it is, but also in reality we are made up of so many things from the past and they impose themselves on the present and future. In those 7 times of moving, I've probably thrown away a lot of things that I would now love to see again, but of course I can't recall nor do I cling to their existence. I'm moving forward without them. Perhaps that's the better way, but something still makes me hold on to some memories, perhaps arbitrarily so. The maps of places I've been. I recall throwing out so many in the last move, and now regretting it.