A Note from Noelle: I am trying something a little different today, and depending on your feedback it may become a permanent Monday fixture; I’ve been wanting to do a bit of free-writing/journal-ing and figured that there’s no time like the present. Per usual, I’d love your feedback. Thanks! -N
Now onto your regularly scheduled blog post!
It’s funny how something can you bring you back to an exact moment in time. It doesn’t have to be big. It can be the smell of a stranger. Or the chorus of your favorite song, drifting out of an open window. Or even just putting on an old t-shirt… Biting into a sandwich.. Driving down an old dirt road. Rainstorms. A glass of red wine or a phone call from a friend.
And upon that one small thing crossing your path, while remaining in the present moment, you are transported back to a different place and time. And feeling exactly how you felt. The same thoughts are running through your head, the same sounds gracing your ears and there you are, face to face with a former self. It doesn’t matter who you are in the present, because for that one moment, you are taken back to where and who you were. Living in the past, just for moment. It’s time travel in its truest form.
Most recently for me, this “something” was an invitation. In that particular (present?) moment I was a strong, put together 24-year-old woman, looking forward to an evening spent with my wonderful husband…until, an unexpected invitation arrived.
And there I was, a 20-year-old, living in a new place, standing next to a monument in complete shock and awe as I watched a ring being placed on my finger…onto a know-it-all fourteen-year-old with a serious case of puppy love, and then-just like that!- I’m sixteen.
As quickly as I’ve been taken to these places, I’ve left them (and been to a few places in between). Then, I am twenty-one, crying hysterically after sliding the ring off my finger and knowing I’ll never wear it again, wondering what I could have done to prevent this.
A moment later, six months have passed and I am timidly looking across a table at an old acquaintance. After that I am fifteen, standing in a friend’s living room meeting a goofy boy for the first time. Seconds later, I am twenty-three, standing in that same goofy boy’s kitchen as he asks me to marry him, another second passes and I am having a difficult conversation with someone that I used to know. Then, with a flash, I am saying my marriage vows on a hot summer’s day.
And then, as quickly as it came, it’s gone. I am back in the present, staring down at an invitation. My head is spinning, lost in a sea of memories and I smile to myself, realizing how each one of these moments has shaped who and where I am in this exact moment.
I used to hate being flooded with memories and dragged through years of forgotten (and remembered) moments in time, but now I think it’s God’s way of keeping me from getting too comfortable. It’s his way of reminding me of where I’ve been, while showing me where I’ll end up next.