Memories of Ago: To shatter, or not to shatter?

christmas treeVery recently, I received some information about someone with whom I had once dealt. From a person unknowing about the involvement, so unadulterated, unfiltered details.

The kind of information which can only be received like one does a kick in the chest – without any kind of grace, and a side of oxygen tank.

Disappointing information which, for the first 24 hours, kept spinning itself in circles in my head, forcing me to revisit all of the moments I held dearly. [One small important caveat here – there is no gravitational wave (Einstein was right, y’all!) that could have compressed enough to ensure an alternate ending to his and my story. Meaning, this story could have only ended. Only.]

Back to the story. So there I was in this 24-hour-spin thinking
Do I want biryani for dinner?
Have I checked in with my mother this hour?
Is every moment I enjoyed spending with this person in fact moments full of kaka?

As Baby Jane has said in the past, I am as efficient in my processing and pain-management as I am in everything else. This makes me lucky in that once the pain management is over, but only because I swim in it, drink it, snort it, and get it into my ears, it’s done. Anything after is usually swift, immediate, and approached like a logic puzzle meant to be dismantled and rebuilt with minimum effort. That’s what happened here when I eyeballed the information and my memories.

The question, really, was simply – what do I do with this information and do I let it alter my lovely memories which have sat in a box at the back of a closet in some house I can’t find all too easily without a proper map?

I had a choice to make.

Choice One: Rewrite history through this tainted information. Bleed into history all of the shit I was told, undo all of the loveliness, change the narrative to one of toxic swamp days.

Choice Two: Discard the information, leaving it in the present, since the situation it could alter, is firmly in the past with absolutely no means for it to come into present (at least not as things are and not today). Leave the memories as they are. Appreciate the past, keep walking.

I chose Two because what would Choice One serve but to bring pain? Nothing, in fact. It would bring nothing but more naval gazing and boredom. It would bring nothing to my present but an annoying tick every time I thought about this person, and that doesn’t interest me much. It would diminish from a beautiful time in my life. It would belittle the amazing quality of a rare bubble inside of which both he and me did our best. Even if, ultimately, our best was not good enough.

Choice One would do nothing but detract and diminish from the care this individual has for me, and I for him. This kind of shit, I do not have time for it; my preference is to position myself in places of kindness and gentleness toward myself, rather than self-belittlement and illogical unhinged self-hate. This world is already a struggle enough, God knows I don’t need to actively make it harder for myself to get through the long winter days. My bed mate, Self-Delusion, says HI HOW ARE YOU?, by the way. (I’d rather be happy and self-delusional than angry and bitter at my life. How about you?)

Don’t get me wrong. I’m never one to Pom-Pom-Cheer turning a blind eye. At least, not to information which is received about a present situation in which one currently has dealings. In fact, I would argue that to engage that kind of information, in that kind of a moment, is healthy and critical. It is being a responsible adult with eyes wide open, and it is one means of being informed and thereby responsible for your choices and decisions. (Basically, make your chauffeur Leave The Head Burying To The Ostriches.)

But that’s not the case here. The case I was faced with was to stop moving, and become stuck in a moment of the past. The case was to ignore my present, reverse my position and undo every lovely memory I had. For what? For the masochism of it?

I’ve never been a fan of self-cutting.

Rather, I have always been a fan of shrugging off the past and leaving it where it belongs once you have dealt with it.

At the end of the day, this was information which added absolutely no value to my life. This Boy I will always cherish and hold dear, no matter how he may or may not have behaved truly, based on this information. That behaviour, I know he did his best. I know he brought his A-Game. I know he gave me everything he could give in that moment. And I will always adore him for it, and be thankful for the time the Universe gave us together.

I have since taken measures to ensure that I no longer hear anything about him. Short of him becoming sick or someone in his family being hurt or falling ill, it is no longer my business to know his life. Good or bad. It neither adds nor detracts from his and my time together. In short, his today is of no consequence to our yesterday.

Our life stories are riddled with thousands of people. When new information about our past comes to light in our present, we need to be vigilant of the power and weight which we give it. Ask yourself what possible consequence this new information could have. If it is not consequence of love, light, and kindness on your heart, leave the information by the garbage bins on the side of your life’s story.

You have bigger, more powerful stories that need your living and your attention today. Trust.


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