Start Where You Are

I meant the thoughts I’d take into the new year to be more powerful and positive, but at the end of the last one I found myself repeating this one to remind myself that change doesn’t start somewhere you haven’t been yet — it starts where you are. A simple, neutral thought whose logic can hardly escape anyone.

Broadford, Isle of Skye | September 2017
Broadford, Isle of Skye | September 2017

Whether you want to change your profession, eating habits or attitude to adversity, you need to start in the place you are now. Not a place you want to be, probably. A bad place, perhaps. But it’s not possible to become the idealized image of yourself in no time.

It starts with realizing where you are.

It may take some courage and seriousness to take the first step towards change.

More courage and seriousness to step back and try again if the first step didn’t take you where you wanted.

A shit-ton of work to find the right path!

Patience to stay put if your heart, mind, lungs and the rest of your lovely self don’t quite keep up with the pace.

More work to keep searching, and stay on the right path if you’ve found it.

And perserverance.

And more of it.

 

Good luck, everyone.

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Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey

I don’t usually take pictures of places I’m in. They say pictures help to remember, but I insist on not taking them. Stupidly so?

Pictures are nice if you know the basics of taking them (or in other words, how not to take them). Plus, they help to remember.

Still, I try to remember without the help. I keep thinking maybe the pictures would distort my memory of this or that moment, maybe they would spoil what I experienced.

Remembering without the help of pictures is a lousy practice. You forget so much it makes you cry.

I wish I could handle time, and memory — these two are really peculiarly connected — more easily. I wish I were able to decide which memories not to lose, and always know where (when?) to place them on the timeline of my life.

But I forget. Even the greatest of moments, I forget. I lose track of events, misplace them on my timeline, stretch or shorten them inappropriately.

Sometimes it’s the sadness that makes me do it, sometimes it’s the happiness of living.

I wish I could handle time, and memory, more easily. I sometimes write down stuff, such as my impressions from a movie, or what songs a band played during a concert, to help myself  remember.

But I’m a lousy writer, too. And I forget to write the stuff down.

So, what will this wibbly wobbly, timey wimey thing do with my memories?

I keep on trusting time, and carry my memories in the mind. I trust the mind, too, and believe it will take good care of the good ones.

But sometimes, I also help myself with a picture — this one is from vacation:

In the distance, St. Peter's and St. Paul's Cathedral in Brno
In the distance, St. Peter’s and St. Paul’s Cathedral in Brno