2024 Author: Harry Day | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-17 15:43
I am.
Memories are my eternal witness of my presence in life. When I manage to gain access to my past and even out of the corner of my eye to grasp this moment, I really travel in time, otherwise, how else can you call it. All those feelings that I had, everything around comes to life, it moves, and I definitely am there, I clearly feel my presence and close connection with the world, its vibrations, light, wind, cold, warmth, density It's amazing that I sitting on the plane now I can be 20 years ago in that place and at that time and clearly feel everything that was there. I am amazed by this connection between time, space and feelings. I am like a dynamic repository of information that constantly reproduces itself looking simultaneously into the past and into the future. A metaphor for such an understanding of oneself can be the cursor on the tape measuring the time of the video, I move the cursor and see what happened or what will be, and if you don't move it, the video goes smoothly from start to finish.
It's amazing to have such a connection with yourself. It seems to me that the gift of memory is perhaps the best that a person has, this connection of times, it is more than just a connection, it is a relationship that lasts outside of time, in fact, they are immortal, unlike my body. Although, maybe my body and my life just have a sense in collecting this sensual information. Who knows. If we assume that this is so, then everything that we do, think, feel has no other meaning except - to be. Interestingly, at the moments of turning into memories, all my experience is directed precisely to the sensory sphere, there is not a trace of the cognitive one. This is a moment of absolutely pure life experience, as it could have been then, and in fact it was, but with a layering of the noises of my then thoughts.
And perhaps my personal experience speaks in me now, but I see that there are many things in these sensory images that I did not feel then. I don’t know, maybe it’s a mixture of my present feelings and those past, or this is the true feelings at that moment, but I come to the fact that I was not familiar with them then. As if there is such a fantasy that if I felt then in the past, what I felt now in the present, plunging into those images, then I would be happy. But I was not. For me personally, this is an indescribable gamut of realizations, saying that, after all, I was happy at that moment, I just, as it were, did not contact him directly. I don’t know how to explain it, it’s difficult for me now.
Now, sitting here at an altitude of twelve thousand meters, warm and safe, I want to embrace this feeling of happiness, but instead I get a strong cocktail from everything in the world and it is difficult for me to dig out this pure moment of experience of happiness from my memory. I can only feel it superficially, it's like dipping my hand into the sea, but not swimming in it. This is strange. That's all I know about myself now. It may be even less than nothing. To live, and after 20 years to understand that I was happy in that particular situation, thinking all this time that I was not, it is certainly strange, although interesting.
But what is even more interesting is that now, having experienced this bright concentrate of happiness in my memory, I look back and no longer see anything bad there, and at this point my whole life becomes completely different. Tears run down my cheeks. The plane is flying. The sun is shining. I am.
