I don’t have anything really specifically to say. As I sit to write these words, I don’t have a pad next to me with a whole lot of dot points, plotting out what I want to say. It’s just me with my mind, and my fingers typing what my mind figures out. I have wanted to write this for a while now, so I apologise to myself as well to you that this was not written earlier. I am sure though that you are not disappointed as it is not something that you are expecting. I am unsure of the length, or the content of what will be said. We will just see where the pen leads.
I chase my mind back to the beginnings of my life when I was a lot smaller. Smaller ears, smaller feet, smaller legs, smaller everything. I would prance around your feet, or mums feet, or anybody I felt the urge to annoy. I remember my first memory was when we were at a family holiday in mitta mitta, with that strange family we used to be good friends with. I think, after I talked to mum about it, I was around two when it happened. I remember eating fizzer lollies from an old 80’s style wooden bowl, one of those party bowls you put chips or confectionary in. Of course, this makes good sense because it was definitely the 80’s and it probably would’ve been some kind of party.
It’s strange to think that the mind, by itself, without any consultation from anybody or anything, remembers some things and disregards others. Why is that? Why was this strange random memory my first? Why wasn’t it some milestone where I said my first full sentence or when I had my first God moment in church. Of course as life moves forward, we as people remember more and more things, events, feelings, friends and family. Things that we do, things that have all kinds of emotion attached to them. Jealousy, guilt, shame, happiness, joy, excitement. If you look at this human experience, from a very simple straightforward point of view, like an alien looking at the human race from the outside in, all they would see would be a string of interactions and experiences, spanning eighty or ninety years, with it ending with some kind of death, some kind of finish.
These experiences and interactions determine who we are. We are what we do. I know this isn’t true with everything, but I believe it rings true with a lot of stuff. We can ponder to ourselves till we go insane, but until we actually put thought into action, our musings hold no weight. What we do proves to ourselves who we are. What we do proves to other people who we are.