Memory’s Attic

Memory is the cabinet of imagination, the treasury of reason, the registry of conscience, and the council chamber of thought.
- anon

Imagine an attic with a tiny window that lets in just enough light for an afternoon of discovery. There is an old dresser that held all your baby things, sleepers, and sweaters, all folded neatly. Breathe deeply. Can you smell the sweet talcum powder? And over there in the corner, see the old trunk with tarnished metal corners and leather straps? Take a peak inside. It’s full of old feathery hats, glittery gowns, and an old Army Uniform. Can you think of yourself all dressed up and playing make-believe?

As you enjoy this moment, try to remember a specific pleasure from your past. Perhaps it was the day you wobbled down the sidewalk on your first two-wheeler, or the day you went barefoot on the lawn, or the day you read your first love letter. Perhaps it was a graduation, a special holiday, or a long-awaited vacation.

Nothing soothes the soul like a cherished memory that takes you back to a precious time.

Memories like these are only meant to be rest stops along the way, places to drink in the wonder of days gone by, not to wish them back, but to relish them as part of you – who you are and who you will become.