Among the nice things about the apartment-mansion, having a dumpster along the route to my parking spot is among the middle to maybe nicer things. If I aim a bag just right, it disappears into the ether, along with any bad memories its contents may have contained. Today I threw away two things that I once liked until their memories became sullied, and rather than keep them for saccharine lamentation, away forever they did go.
I know these are not groundbreaking realizations.
Yet, for me, they are. For my entire life until these writings, I’ve been obsessed with the nature of objects as memory vessels. I have some things of my childhood dog’s, Patrick’s, that make me incredibly happy whenever I relax my gaze, look them over, hold them, and reminisce toward those sacred memories.
Then there are objects inspiring anger.
Those should go. Anger can be a good motivator but it never lasts and never ends well. I’ve found that when I resonate more with hateful or hurtful things, that’s when I’m hating or hurting on the inside, so it’s a good barometer for seeing what I need to change. I’ve been having a rough week and part of that is purging those bad feelings.
What if I kept those things around?
I might recall the zeniths and nadirs of their acquisitions, which, really, what purpose does that serve? If they are important for any sort of writing exercise later on, then I’ll potentially recall them, otherwise I think abstractly writing about them now will be good enough. Will I ever regret throwing those memories away? Well, I didn’t. I threw away the objects that could remind me of those memories.
Why hold onto any negative memories?
Maybe we subconsciously think that if we think back to when we were scorn, the color of the floor in the room we were in when we were hurt, then we can prevent it again? That’s not a bad theory. It just fails to resonate with me because on my days off, when I am fully autonomous, I won’t ruminate over bad situations unless they are upcoming things I dread encountering.
If I don’t see those objects, I’ll forget those things.
I might occasionally think back to them while I’m doing something else, but without them there specifically inciting that sort of bad memory, I can then be free to relax my body and mind to attain some greater realizations. When I am wrong, I will consider all possibilities. If I didn’t understand something, I don’t want to blame others for my lack of understanding. It is my fault and I must accept full responsibility before I can grow as a person. After that event is over, why keep the objects, memories, or other constructs that reminds you of those negative feelings? If you do it right, the lesson is instilled, while the punishment is positive guidance.
Throw those unconstructive memories into your mind’s indifferent dumpster and proceed living happily ever after.
|Sources: My personal experiences.|
|Inspirations: The phrase popped into my head on the drive into work and as I sat in the parking lot, I just dumped out some of my ideas. Writing like this is helpful for me to figure out what it is that’s upsetting me, and a lot of times, it’s when I hold onto fleeting glimpses of happiness that have been tainted or changed into something more menacing and manipulative, that’s when I need to go and address it.|
|Related: Other Downsizing Zeal essays.|
|Photos: An object that once represented something positive but then was tainted and distorted. Should I hold onto it because of what it once was? What it has become has overshadowed that, which is unfortunate, but this happens.|
|Written On: June 20th [21 minutes, mobile]|
|Last Edited: August 10th [Aim from am. Otherwise: First draft; final draft for the Internet.]|