The Travel Suitcase of Your Memories
Do you remember what you ate yesterday? A month ago? A year ago? Do you remember your first kiss? Surely yes. Do you remember your last kiss? Maybe. Do you remember every kiss? No.
One day, just like me, you will die. And that's okay. You didn't exist for millions of years, so everything will be fine after you stop existing for trillions of years.
In your final moments, the only valuable things in your mind will be your recollections. Your memories.
But we can't take many with us at the end.
It's like a travel suitcase. The small one. It only fits six days of clothes. That's it. You have to choose which memories to pack, because at the end of the journey, you won't arrive with everything.
You'll forget the clothes you're wearing today. And this post. And most of your coworkers. Friends and loves.
How do you choose what to pack in the suitcase? By creating memories.
How do you create memories? By taking risks.
Stealing that kiss. Launching that idea. Writing that article. Showing vulnerability. Leaving our comfort zone. Growing. Trying different things. Rejecting routine and normality. Being nonconformist. Creating. Testing.
Fear is an invitation. And every game we play is optional.
What about real risk? What if the pain hurts?
Pain teaches us to take care of ourselves. Scars remind us what not to do and their consequences. This is how we avoid slipping and falling. We learn.
But time passes, scars heal and become memories.
When I grow old, I want to be full of scars like tattoos. Evidence of what I lived. I had fun. Or maybe not. But I experienced.
What a waste to reach the end with a flawless human body, intact, sacred, and full of regret. As long as you don't hurt anyone, it's better to arrive with scars. And stories.
Stop reading and go out to play.