Memory Lane

I was doing a lot of strolling here yesterday, for some reason. Old journal entries, old emails, old text messages. As expected, a lot of them left me shot with regrets and near-palpable pain. But more surprisingly, I've found that for the most part I've had a really fun and fulfilling life so far. It's strange to realize this, because when I'm in the moment, I tend to think of myself as a malcontent. I write so much because I feel I have a lot of tragedy to report, and suffering is the essence of good literature. But as anxious and dissatisfied and preoccupied I might be about stuff, the fact is that exciting moments have been nothing less than overwhelming and glorious.

I was reading in my journal yesterday and entry about a particular hug I got once that was perfect - the timing; the sympathy that came with it; the utter sense of comfort. Reliving it again was exquisite. I'm sure I can think of other good hugs in my life, but that one happened to have been captured right at the moment when the impression was still vivid. It's amazing how memory dims, and changes, our experiences. If only we can remember just how happy we've ever felt, instead of cleaving to the little circumstanstial irritants.