HAPPIEST HEART: INHABITING MEMORY

I came across the phrase recently: INHABITING MEMORY. I found it evocative.

The verb inhabit comes from the Old French enhabiter, meaning “dwell in.”

Do we live in memory? Are this places dense and peopled?

Crowded, unkempt or solitary and ordered?

There may be value in taking a moment to see where we spend so much time. I mean since we live in memory, someone should be home, right?

Do we choose which of our memories to inhabit? Is it like a village of memories? The good ones live in the big, bright, shiny houses and the scary ones live down the road in the shabbier side of town?

Are we the mayor? How do we manage our town of memory? Do we have a city council selected from each part? Or just the ones that vote? Maybe we hold town meetings where everyone has a voice.

If this is a place of memory, and it is only memory and I spend all my time there, how do I create new memories? Can I leave town? Is this home? If so, do I carry it with me into the present and if I do, how does that flavor my experience today?

Might be a good thing to spend some time today thinking about your little city of the past. What are you carrying around inside of you, and how does that touch your TODAY?

What can we do with those memory places that we inhabit that are difficult? How does one clean up the inner village? Can they be shifted by cleaning up the property, hauling away the trash and planting a garden?

Maybe the place needs to be taken apart, piece by piece and used to rebuild another place, one that brings rest rather than nightmares?

It will not happen in our lifetime if we ignore the place...maybe over generations our genetics will erase the images, but for NOW, for ME, for THE WORLD, take a CONSCIOUS walk down these streets.