When you boil life experiences down to what they truly are. We are usually left with tear tracks running down our faces. Our memories at times are like scattered papers, or at best recollections built like a flip book. Where on each page a picture is placed, while flipping those pages our memories, recalled, move like a real life movies across our minds silver screen. While watching all of those slivers of time, recalling charters we’ve interacted with, times and experiences within our history, that crosses our mind’s eye and slowly flips by. Page after page of past experiences, events, successes, failures, our simple and privet times, all of which have built a sum total our lives lived to date waiting for their review.
Memories often confuse our emotional state. But they are all there, tucked in the nooks and crannies of our mind awaiting their turn, their re-experienced. Jolted from some present experience, our minds take action by some default, conveying experiences of our past, the mind responds instantly in living color. A day-dream bathed with intrigue, realizing something new within these memories, these memories are then slowed down. Transported in time, to a different place, unaware of our surroundings, our emotions then simmer at first along their way to a boil.
At other times sparked into some heightened state of emotional feelings, like anger, fear, or extreme pain, emotions become hard to control, we flip through these experiences faster, and faster, producing a dizzying feeling of personally being out of control. Our minds are working overtime with recollections, while making an attempt in suppressing fresh emotional outbursts from just under the surface, from making an appearing on our facial expressions. These challenging small moments within our lives can become so emotionally over loading, that they become a mixture of feelings, emotions. The true colors of life. Like paintings of unattended water-colors in the rain. Purposefully blurred experiences, memories built out of swirling combinations of faded colors. We find that nitty-gritty, swirling within joy and pain. Those common experiences we share, or hide from everyone else, is concentrated personality within this soup, life’s boiling experiences as we look for individuality.
Our chosen camouflage, our mask which hides all, is firmly placed and in plain sight. Facial expressions seemed to be practiced, rehearse, even to a point of perfection. Outward appearances are carefully built into impressions, reality’s obscured through individual smoke and mirrors. It is a kind of self-preservation, protecting society from the reality within our cocoon. A carefully woven web of past memories, experiences, and personal deceit, are our building blocks of our choice. We have fashioned what we believe is the perfect human, that human we strive to be.
We rebuild and readjust our camouflage to fit our surroundings, or to fit in with the people we choose to sound ourselves with. Constantly checking and then double checking with our memories, we fashion a perfect fortress, to house our hollow treasures. The more we become safe and secure behind our illusions, the more our homes eco our vast emptiness.
Insecurity causes us to hide more and more behind our negative emotional memories, we are only repeating the same old flip books worth of cheap movies of our recent pasts, Until we reach our breaking points. The metamorphosis of what is our true self’s bursts suddenly through our fortifications, born out of what is now our adult thoughts, we tell ourself’s, “I don’t give a damn!” Escaping our cocoon, bursting into the true world. Venerable, unsteady, unsure of what to expect next, we are finely capable to experience the joy and the pain of living free of our own self-imposed teen-aged prison.
We are now free to wonder this boiling caldron of life, full of activity’s, experiences and untold memories waiting to be experienced to its fullest or even shared. Free to laugh, or cry, to be filled with joy, or to be savored, being enjoyed. Life is at its best just like that warming sunlight that softly cresses our skin in our mornings greetings, with that same warmth of love, of that special someone who we have come to love. Like kisses so gently, or soft gentil finger tips that slowly wipes those droplets of tears away.
For our tears we cry, maybe that outward expression we all share, and share the same, the very thing that causes life to boil with our simplest of memories as they at first breathe life of their own. Whether we chose to adventure from the slightly warm side of this caldron, or wonder to that boiling chaotic hot side, whether we are loved, or in love, or individually alone. We are left with the choice of how we will react to someone else’s tears displayed in plain sight, or whether we display our own for all to see. For when life gets boiled down to its simplest of forms, we must choose how we will react, with compassion or contempt, with goodness, or evil in our hearts. Everyone is on this same road, just at a different point on that roadway. Looking forward into that black unknown or reviewing memory all to our own, life boiled down is equally full of joy and pain. The only question we need to answer is….. Where will we place our emphasis?
(Slowly I dropped my pockets worth of coins into that tin cup held by hands wrapped in rags to keep warm. Leaning a bit closer, I whispered.” Don’t forget to help someone else in need, and can I help you get to a shelter?” The untold reaction within those eyes was priceless. Just where this encounter would lead was that black unknown of each of our futures slowly unfolded with one foot step after the other. The impact of someones kindness is limitless.)
Whether we choose to wipe away those tears of joy or pain in kindness, choosing that gentle soft touch of encouragement, or with that sudden violent strike of hatred. We recreate and change the world beyond ourselves permanently. Our actions and reactions create two sets of memories that stay within us all. That person of actions, or reactions, we are free to choose. While life boils us down to that nitty-gritty, that thing, we have allowed ourselves to become. We should examine it truthfully, if necessary reëxamine it respectfully in becoming that pure concentration of our choosing. For everyone lives in between joy and pain? For it is not up to us to decide in judgment what we have allowed ourselves to become. But are left with the struggle to keep ourself’s from drowning in the tears we cry.