1+2+3+4+5+6

One of the most beautiful things about growing up and getting older are the memories you've come to collect: long lazy days, crazy parties, tears, loves, single heart-stopping moments. Of all the things that people collect, the ones that seem to be least appreciated are the memories that have made us who we are.

I've tried to imagine what it would be like if, even just for an instant, I knew nothing of my past; a blank slate that is twenty five years old. I wouldn't be jaded or have any hang-ups, I would know nothing of old scars and pains, I could walk the earth with the same blissful abandon that children cultivate so naturally. And that almost sounds appetizing. Until, that is, you realize that without all those hang-ups and scars there really isn't a person, just a brand new body itching for memories. Itching for life.

Some of the most beautiful hours of my life were spent remembering. Whether it was long talks over a dinner table with my parents about the years I spent naming snails while watching them kiss me as they slimed along my arms or flipping through old pictures of times so long ago I can't actually remember them. We laugh and smile until our our temples burn and our eyes well up, and in those blissful moments of recollection the moment I am living in right now seems even more important.

Because this moment, this one right here that is serenaded by the rhythmic clanking of a keyboard, will one day be but a distant memory; one that I will one day see in hindsight as the beginning of something. This moment will make my life.

There's that saying that we are the sums of our experiences. I find the sentiment incredibly beautiful for two very different reasons. First, isn't it amazing to look into the mirror, far deeper than what is obvious to eye and see someone so lovely, so incredible, so powerful and realize that every moment of your life, good, bad, monumental, painful, has made you the person you are looking at? It's almost magical to think that every breath you've taken, every stumble, every laugh, every tear has molded you into this masterpiece before you. Life is a very talented artist, no? But even more beautiful than that is the fact that if by chance you don't see the masterpiece before you that you want so eagerly to see, you have the power to revise. There may be no "backspace" button or "delete" option in life, but the editting options that life has so generously given to us are far more beneficial. This moment right here is filled with limitless potential to change everything. This moment right here is more powerful than anything else. And this moment belongs to you and nobody else.

I know it sounds cheesy to say that every moment is a gift, but how can you deny that? Life has given you countless moments of limitless potential and infinite power, shouldn't we take advantage of it? To squeeze every ounce of life out of every moment, big or small, and to not simply exchange gases with the world around us?

We should live. We should be grateful for all the moments of our past, of our present, of our future. We don't need to be an aged blank slate to make our marks in the play ground sand like children do. We can do that now.

And isn't that the least we can do?