These are my musings and observations on my daily life, loves and the laughter that are all a part of my experience of living now in the shires of England.

Saturday, 26 February 2011

Places



There are some places in my mind that I thought were closed but unexpectedly they were torn open and it was a big surprise to my heart.

This evening I was going about my business in the normal manner of a busy woman – with about 10 things on my mind at the same time. I was juggling thoughts and future plans when suddenly I felt as if I had been hit by a ten ton breeze block.

Whilst I was reeling from the impact of this unanticipated memory I thought to myself “How did that happen?” I carried on driving and chatting while my brain raced into the past.


I thought I had forgotten it all. I hoped I had done what a friend told me she has done – put all her painful, sad or “can’t deal with” memories in the smallest Russian doll possible, then put that doll in progressively larger dolls until there is one of sufficient size to lock into a heavy chest; then that chest is bound with several chains that even Houdini would struggle with and cast into the deepest unreachable part of her mind. I can almost imagine a huge ‘Please do not touch’ sign plastered across the outermost barrier.

So, after doing all that, it would be putting it mildly to say I was a tad surprised that when I drove past a place this evening it conjured up magnificently vibrant Technicolor images, sounds and scents of a time that I thought had forever been buried in my past. It felt as if I were viewing a large screen showing a lost reel of my autobiography.

That physical space gave me pleasure tinged with sadness. Then the surprise washed me with a glow of delight because it had really been a magnificent time in my life. Momentarily I wondered why I had strived so hard to forget it but then I knew ... it was because it was so absolutely wonderful that I wanted to forget. That’s not quite as crazy as it may at first sound. The intensity of perfection and beauty that I experienced made it one of the special links in a chain of places that were like stepping stones from an island of torture into a land of freedom and peace.

That particular place - that I breezed past in the car - but that still lingers in my mind, was only associated with the purest pleasure. Even now as I relive the memory my eyes dash about in their sockets as I picture the scenes of happiness, my internal gaze is focused on that past time and ... that particular space when I was right there.

Being totally present in a moment and in a place is an outstanding feeling.

When joy is so complete it may seem impossible to replicate it. I think this is why I tried to erase that memory of that place from my mind.

Today I have realised that some places need time to become visible and positive signposts in my life. I didn’t know this would happen, however, without forethought I have discerned a shift towards acceptance of a clean and pure space for these memories in the forefront of my mind.

I am moving into new places.

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