13 September 2004
I jotted down my old text messages today. It felt like more than just taking note of what I’ve received; it seemed more like literal archiving.
When we start to put away old things in boxes and tie them up with little ribbons and put them in a closet or an attic, are we closing that chapter of our lives?
I have always been fond of collecting little things including little notes sent to me on paper or through text. I found it sentimental. But I’ve never really re-read my diaries or scrap books from cover to cover.
Is it a subconscious act to start sorting and organizing “old” things because they don’t belong in the present any more?
Do we actually live for the present? Do we ever really enjoy the moment? Or do we batter our brains thinking, “Where will this lead to? Where am I going? Is this going to last? Will this make me happier in the future?”
Happiness has become as trivialized as the archived notes. We keep it to remind us that we were once happy. But can we be happy for “now”?
I know a person who attends memorable events but doesn’t bring a camera. I always found it puzzling. In his old age, how will he remember the happier times?
Maybe, the happiness is etched in his heart and it will never leave his side. Maybe he brings a little bit of that happiness that makes a memorable event a memorable one and not simply a memory.
I guess I have to move up that ladder where I should be happy for the moment; happy for being; happy for knowing that happiness does exist and sometimes we don’t need to keep it hidden in an old box because it never left our hearts.