Maybe today’s post is in some ways connected to my last one – it’s not intentional, but sometimes, that’s just the way things happen – and sometimes, we start in one direction, and end up somewhere entirely different instead.
That’s what happened today – i started on an occulus rift spree, which eventually led me, by way of a fairly circuitous route, to Pathfinder’s blog, and thence to a post he’d written about a year ago.
It’s strange how the most innocous of things can affect us in the most unexpected manner.
i’ve never been to the store that Pathfinder writes about, never heard of it, nor of Lou, its proprietor, yet there was something about that post which resonated deeply with me and instilled powerful feelings inside. The description of the store, of Lou and his treasure trove was one that i found ridiculously moving, and the haunting piano piece that he composed has captured my mood perfectly; it’s playing now as i write these words.
Don’t ask me why i feel such an affinity to an article which, if i’m honest, has no real connection to me, my life, or anything about it – i can’t give you an answer to that – but perhaps it’s because those words tapped into something that is very much a part of who i am and is something that very much shapes my world. You see, in many ways you could say that i’m stuck in the past, and i don’t consider that to be in any way a negative statement: the past, for me, is a special place – were the days of summer so much longer than today? Were the snows of yesteryear brighter and deeper than those we experience now? i honestly don’t know, but it certainly seems that way to me.
Who i am today, is very much a product of where i’ve come from – the past wasn’t all good, some of it has been appalling – but i’ve clung to the good things throughout and it is those that i cling to still. In my last post i mentioned how circumstance has – far too frequently -left me with less than that with which i started; even so, as i look up from my keyboard, i’m surrounded by so many things that speak to me personally and bring back those days, now long gone… a piece of furniture, an ornament, a painting: they all have their stories, and they are all part of my own story. i may profess not to covet material things – but these, to me, are more valuable than silver or gold and they mean so much more… they hold memories and feelings that money simply cannot buy.
Then there are the times from which nothing has been salvaged – no reminders or relics from the past – yet still, i have my memories. There are those who think i’m odd to be a loner by choice, and there are those who try hard to change me – “What do you do at night… at the weekends… during all those hours on your own?”, they ask: The answer… i think. i retreat inside that place where everything seems so very different – my mind – and i remember. There are places, people, occasions, and countless moments in time that all come flooding back and they remind me of who i really am, and why.
It’s not so bad.
And, thinking about it, perhaps that’s why i hoard in sl: life – of any sort – is too short, too sweet and too fleeting not to be captured, cherished and remembered. Those freebies i grabbed in my early days; the cobbled-together builds – my first attempts to make something of worth; the chat logs of people long-gone; and the landmarks for places that have vanished forever… i can’t consign them to the trash, because every one of them is a chapter in my story.
It’s a story that i doubt anyone will ever read, but it’s important to me and, in years to come, when everything has changed and i have moved on, it will still be there evoking memories, stirring my thoughts and reminding me why i am.
All those simple thoughts all those peaceful dreams,
Share the space with a hard worked, hard worked day
But it’s the little things, the little things not expectation
That make life worth living, worth living.
JJ Grey & Mofro – The Sun Is Shining Down