The past only exists in your mind
Inertia — Nº185
The self is a kind of fiction, for hosts and humans alike. It's a story we tell ourselves.
— Dr Ford, Westworld
Time’s tapestry leaves us clinging to worn threads of the past. Torn recollections, patched with a cloth that resembles the colour of the original fabric but is always ever-so-slightly off.
What I mean is we’re often the only ones keeping our memories alive. And one thing to remember about the past is it doesn’t exist anywhere else but in our minds. Your memories. Right now, they are no more real than a daydream and are usually not as accurate as you think they are. They’re coloured by your emotions; how you were feeling, and your view of memory itself. The mind both exaggerates and forgets. Or, someone else there likely remembers it very differently than you.
Said differently, memories are not always accurate and cannot always be trusted.
Memories create our sense of self, and we decide who we are because of them. They are state-dependent. You write the story of your life based on them and recite them to consolidate yourself. But because the past doesn’t exist and your memory now leans on thin threads, you must think about how much they define you. Of course, even when the layers of your memory are dark, it doesn’t mean it’s all bad and inaccurate—it just means you can rewrite it.
Integrity is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are one. So, aligning your memories and beliefs with your actions is always important—but the world turns and grows. So, do you let your unhealthy thoughts hold you back, or do you leave them to make space for new ones that will shape you better? While your mind is miraculous—it paints and repaints memories, often with hues of joy—it’s an artist, not a historian. It creates better than it records.
The past is like a tale your mind whispers in the quiet hours. The twist is you’re both the storyteller and the audience, and you have the power to reimagine. We treat certain thoughts as an anchor we drag behind us when, in reality, they are as malleable as clay in a sculpt’s hands. Your hands.
Treat the past as a figment. Precious, but fleeting. It must not take over your canvas. Because the more space you give to discover a new self, the more room you have to grow and allow yourself to paint your shapes more freely.