Memory is weird.

I was on yet another journey yesterday, hopping homes. From one where parents live to the one which now feels like one. It’s been more than 15 years that this phase of my life started. Involving travel, hopping cities, homes. I cannot seem to remember how I felt during that first travel on my own. I remember how I coped with it very well. But the underlying emotions of anxiety, apprehension, homesickness – No. I remember this all feeling like an adevnture and the excitement surrounding it.

So today, if/when I meet someone in a similar boat – leaving home for newer horizons, young students starting college or jobs – even though I cannot remember the feeling myself, I know the things to say to them to make them feel less anxious, more comfortable. I had read somewhere that the brain works in a way to wash down seemingly harsher or difficult experiences. But if mine has washed it all down then why does it understand what to say in such situations?

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Talking of memory again, I woke up to a howling dog last night. Around 2 am-ish. Around the same time my subconscious was spewing meaningful thoughts in an uninterrupted flow. I kid you not, but I had 2-3 paragraphs worth of text imprinted on my mind’s sleepy slate. As I was already awake, I thought I could jot it down. I woke up to drink some water and opened laptop to write. The thoughts were gone. Like that. I did try for another 30 minutes to make coherent words flow. To no avail. Reluctantly I went back to sleep. Forgot to wake up on time for morning run. Running usually brings back these thoughts so tried to remember during the run as well. Messed up the run in the process. Only to gather my thoughts later and write this.

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