Anamniseis

Tagged as self
Written on 2022-05-03 12:05:18

I don't keep photos.

At least not until late. Which is a strange thing to say in this era dominated by media, moving pictures and audio-visual stimuli, but it's true. It's an absence I'm only really questioning now. Throughout my youth and highschool years, I have vehemently rejected photos outside the yearly school ones. I've avidly avoided being in them, shying away from the flash. To me, everything exists as memories. I don't see my silicon-plastic amalgam as a second hippocampus.

Primarily because of a philosophical refute. In my mind, anything worth remembering will always remain. It's a convoluted submission to the inevitability of death. I have accepted that one day I will die and all my memories, my experiences, the subjective nature of existence itself to me will be gone. So rather than hoarding material memories in a feeble attempt to deny death it's hold over `me'. I made the conscious choice to enjoy the present. To enjoy memories as they are made, and instead of remincsing over the past, to forge ahead and make new pasts. To exist in the present.

It is only now, a creeping regret burgeons on the edge of my consciousness. Whether to say this regret is perhaps a rational by-product of ``awakening'', or merely an indicator that I'm not making progress. I hang onto this thought. I'm not making new and meaningful memories regularly, so perhaps this lack of definitive progress is a root. Even so, the lack of a point of reference makes tracking progress difficult, if not much near impossible.

From this perspective, it clearly becomes necessary to leave a trail of bits for the future self. An anchor of sorts. To discard the past is the pull the bricks out from the bottom of the keep. In defining myself I need to keep a record, and the pictorial medium if serviced correctly can be far more evocative than 13 pages of drivel. Of course, with all things, it's wise to use discretion. Even then, the right medium may not be enough, a certain skill and feel for the art is required to producing a meaningful anchor.

To further elaborate, an anchor could be anything that one considers definitive. A milestone. A goal. Hell even a habit. The key element is it seems to be more effective in a succession. A milestone isn't much good on it's own, two goals make a game, etc. Hopefully this might mean a venture to these other mediums for expression.

So, do I regret it?

A little.

But regret is reserved for the `would-haves' and the `would've-beens' and change is in the left pocket of the present.

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