Memories

For a long time now I've been pestered by my Mother to get rid of some of the books that have, over my years of incessant buying, mounted up from being in the bottom of one cupboard to being halfway up said cupboard, a cupboard above my bed and under the wardrobe in the next room. Today, however, she made me fill an entire box full of books for me to get rid of and, honestly, I found it really difficult to throw away any of them. When I read a book so many things factor into what's brought up when I think about it or read it again. The place I was when I read it, the things I thought as I became engrossed in the story, events happening around me, even the music I listened to all play a part in my memories of reading a book. For example: The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown. I rented it from the high school library and I read it every morning in the staff room of my Mum's workplace while listening to Tsukiko Amano. As a result, whenever I think of the Da Vinci Code, I get a musty, rich smell that only library books can have, I can feel the hard, leather seating beneath me, I can hear the soprano tones of a J-Rock artist singing about losing a loved one. For me, every single book thrown away was like a memory, a document of at least one moment in my life, that I was losing. Really, though, all the books themselves are is a trigger for my mind. The memories exist in my head entirely, there isn't a part of those books that co-exists with my mind...so why was I so reluctant to get rid of them? It didn't take me long, once arriving to this question, to come to the conclusion that I was afraid. The reason I didn't want to get rid of my books is because I was afraid of forgetting. My fear is that if I get rid of my books then I'll be getting rid of a way to remember what I might otherwise forget and, if I forget everything, I fear that might mean I'm losing myself. When I thought more, though, I began to realise that this is a more common fear than I first thought. In our lives, sometimes without realising it, we accumulate objects that we place meaning or memory to. If you decorate an apartment with a roomate or partner, receive a gift, make something special or even take pictures, what you're doing creates a memory of an event and, in the cases mentioned above, it's more often than not that you don't get rid of them...at least for a very long while. It's a compulsion that we, as human beings, have: To collect and put memories to things and it's my belief, now, that it may be because we know, deep down, that one day we're going to forget everything if we don't have a way of remembering things. The human brain is an amazing organ that processes information we're not even aware of and it can recall so much more than we first think...but that doesn't stop a person feeling debilitated if they can't consciously remember an event. What can I do about it though? Realistically, I can't keep accumulating things throughout my life...at least not at the rate I currently am, I'd have no room in any house! A part of growing up, though, is maybe to look back on parts of your life and draw a conclusion to them. I may have a lot of memories attached to each of my books...but that was so many years ago now, maybe the best thing to do is to look back on that part of my life as, generally, one that I enjoyed and move on to bigger and better things. There's no doubt that I'll have more things worth remembering and it doesn't mean I value the memories I already have any less, but it would make more sense to bring a close to one chapter in my life, clear the metaphorical table and let it become cluttered once more by this brand new chapter in my life. Who knows what it could bring?