戻り…getting closer

“When nothing else subsists from the past, after the people are dead, after the things are broken and scattered· the smell and taste of things remain poised a long time, like souls· bearing resiliently, on tiny and almost impalpable drops of their essence, the immense edifice of memory.”  -Marcel Proust

recently, i moved…i live in a new place and, with that change, almost certainly, comes a time of nostalgia…

nostalgia, in itself, is fine…i don’t mind it.  it reminds of what i have to be thankful for…i find it interesting, though, when i see what exactly i do remember.

i remember faces and glimpses into moments…i remember particular conversations that somehow seem to capture the essence of entire people…no, i am not silly enough to think that people are so one-dimensional to be fully captured in a conversation or a moment…but, relationships and how they work can be exemplified, almost as a caricature, in a moment…people and how they were for a time (and sometimes, if you are close enough, how they truly are) can be inscribed into a certain time or a certain action…

these things i remember…and i find myself knowing that there is much, much more…

certainly there are more than my memories…obviously i don’t remember perfectly and the adventures, misadventures and everything in between are too great in quantity and quality for me to accurately recall them all…

but, that’s not what i mean…

i think the things that i remember least are the ones that have had the most impression on me…it’s almost as if i never lodged memories for years and years because things became such a part of me that i never needed to…

that’s strange, but it may be how i explain my lack of childhood memories…specifically, the smell of grass and the smell of fire.  i have no particular instances that i can remember smelling these things.  at least, not independently of other events.  and, nonetheless, i remember the smell of grass and of fire so very, very vividly.  i love them both immensely and it is with great displeasure that i progress my voyage on this asian vessel without them as, at least, occasional companions.  these things, others exist too, though i will not mention them yet…these things, are such a part of me and what i love and who i am that i never felt the need to remember them specifically.  i grasped them on a level deeper than instances.

we don’t mark those things that we never expect to lose.  what stands out in our lives are the things we take the time to mark, what we assume will be there is what we don’t write about.  these things we don’t just remember…we know them…they are lodged more deeply than memories can be.  and they oft surprise is when we do not have them…it isn’t until we realize we don’t have them that we could have possibly missed them…

how do you mourn gravity?  what could you say to eulogize water?

that said…i know the smell of grass and fire, i know and pine for rye grass under my bare feet.  sweet tea, also, must find it’s way into this list…it represents so much more than lipton tea bags and sugar.

with this abstraction, i hope you see something…our lives are deeper than we realize.  we are doing more than just making scratches on the surface of a dirty and beautiful rock.  our mark, while not deep on the surface of the planet, is strong and hearty.  the deepest marks we mark are the ones that we inscribe into our own spirits…all the others will fade.

all that said, i’m excited about the newness…journey with me if you don’t mind abstraction