Chasing after repressed memories and rusting dreams.

Because, as Joy Kogawa writes, “all our ordinary stories are changed in time, altered as much by the present as the present is shaped by the past.” Like sticky cobwebs, the past sticks and remains, even as we lay the stories in the attic to be forever forgotten. We often say that our past molds the present, but I would dare argue that our present can reconstruct and re-mold the past through the simple act of remembering.

For it seems that our being, encompassing past, present and future, is a living and breathing entity. Changes in one, ripple throughout all others. And the persistence of the past can only be reconciled when one “submits” to its existence, and acknowledges it in the present. As we remember, the past lives, shifts and grows as we do. And there is remarkable power in that.

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