One of the greatest kindnesses that went into our creation as humans is the ability to forget pain. Without that, no woman would ever have another baby after her first, we would never dare fall in love again and we would never run after our first fall. Yes, we are able to forget pain and it gets archived into our memories as as small pang and nothing more. But the scars, they remain. Don’t you have scars that always draw a story out of you? Aren’t some of these wounds coated with nostalgia and some bitter-sweetness? Don’t we look at them with an almost sense of endearment?
One of the first shocks you get when you go back to the place of your childhood has to do with change. Everything has changed, your parents are older, your friends are different, your home is strangely nostalgic, your most precious childhood memories are diluted into the wind like dandelions. And so much emotion is involved that you can walk around with a strange knot in your throat for days! Yes, going back through this memory tunnel is bittersweet…
Something in us seems to have a great fascination with the past. We are very curious about people who lived before us, about their stories, her-story, his-tory. Yes, history is fascinating to most. There is a great nostalgia that we feel when we walk by an antique; we try to imagine who used it, what they were like, what they felt, what their secrets were. The past did happen and is concrete, so the discovery of its events is thrilling. Whereas the future is a daunting unknown that we tend to shy away from and to relegate to the realms of the unexplained and the out of reach. Maybe this is part of the reason we hang on to antiques, collect them and treasure them and look forward to the stories that they may tell.
photo taken in Dong Tai Lu antique street ~ Shanghai