As I was cleaning out my closet today, I came across several "old" artifacts. Well, "old" in the sense that they are unique to my life. I recalled high school memories in old emails with friends, half - completed math problems in penciled notebooks, and an old picture of a weekend retreat with smiling, carefree teenagers staring back at me. As I held this picture in my hands, the following question crossed my mind:
where has the time gone?
It is true that I am very happy with this new chapter in my life. I'm grateful to all those who I have met and new experiences that help to further shape my character. But, I can't help recalling the past and assuming how easy life seemed. Or rather, was I not fully aware of how quickly life captures you in its wings? Or how easy it is to get innocently swept up in the minute details, the small infractures, the careless items of a world that constantly craves more?
Yet at the end of the day, it's simply the memories that last with a spoonful of lessons comprised in a mixture of future hope.
It turns out that cleaning just might be the best medicine.
