Travelin’Oma, Week 5, Day 2.
Almost imperceptible.
When I look back at past journal entries, I often cringe. I cannot believe I was so foolish, immature, obnoxious, pathetic, etc.… Mostly, I just want to throw all my journals into a large bonfire and watch the flames lick the edges of the memories and turn them to ashes. I’m not sure if others have such strong feelings about some of their earlier years, but mine usually make me nauseated. I think it’s because I hope I’ve grown and learned to be a wiser, more cautious, deeper person (and let’s add here, more socially adept) and having written records of the past means that I can’t completely let go of it. And worst of all, it is a reminder that others remember me that way as well. Those who are still in close contact with me can let my past fade into the background, because they know who I am now, but what about all the rest?
I have changed dramatically from who I was ten years ago. The changes from day to day seem almost imperceptible. But the changes are there, and I have slowly become a new woman. I hope that the good things about me when I was younger have not been thrown out, but have blossomed and increased in magnitude. And the bad things… well, I could wish them away from everyone else’s memories forever, but that won’t happen in this life.
This has taught me a great lesson about giving others the benefit of the doubt. I hope that those that I knew then and those that I know now will keep growing as well, and won’t remain stagnant. To remember them should be recalling the beautiful, forgiving the ugly, and hoping that they too have made some changes that make them a better man or woman.
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3 comments:
very insightful. i've really enjoyed reading these.
I understand completely. I've thought about ripping up all my old journals, but then there would be no evidence that I'd improved. The comparison is what shows we've grown up.
I feel the same way when I read old journals. Part of me wants to rip pages out...or throw them away altogether. But another part of me can't bring myself to do it. Who knows? Maybe your old entries will bring comfort to your kids someday. I remember my parents' old journals helped my put things in the right perspective when I was a teenager. I learned that they were once insecure and awkward and still turned out okay. I learned too that things they thought mattered at the time didn't later.
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