Ghosts of York

If you could relive any day of your life, what day would you choose? Can you think back and pinpoint the greatest day of your life? I have a feeling that many of you might not have an answer to that. I also feel that for those of you who do know what day they'd like to relive, many of you would choose a day from their childhoods. I know that I can actually get more specific than a day; I can vividly remember the single greatest moment of my life. Is that crazy or what? Why was that moment so significant to me? What is it about my childhood that I now cherish?

Okay, I got my feet wet, are you guys ready? Good.

I guess I should start by telling you what the best moment of my life was. I have a feeling this is going to sound generic, but bear with me. It was a Christmas morning back when I was about... 9 or 10 (I have a bad sense of time so I'm really not sure). It was back when my parents were still together in our big house. My brother and I had just woken up, and we ran downstairs to our living room in our pajamas. I remember that as soon as we reached the entrance to the room, we both just stood still - awe struck. I can't even come up with words to describe the emotions I felt. What did we see? No, it wasn't a tree with ornaments intricately placed about it with a mountain of presents underneath. I actually don't even remember a tree or presents at all. What I saw was our living room in perfect order, an absolutely breathtaking view of a fresh coat of fluffy snow outside, and the early morning sun lighting up everything perfectly. The scene simply stunned me. If I had to describe the sight with one word, it would be "glory"

Have you ever felt an emotion that you simply can't put into words? It's probably synonymous with the feeling you get when you can't believe it's not butter (ha, just kidding). In all seriousness though, when I think back to that day, I can't put my finger on any emotion I know. Reminiscing doesn't fill me with happiness and it doesn't make me depressed that it's over. I simply don't know of any emotion that could describe how that moment felt to me.

So moving past the emotions, what made that moment so significant? Why is it that I can remember it so vividly? Why is it that I can look you square in the face (figuratively speaking) and tell you that that moment was the greatest in all my life?

Lets approach it from some different angles, shall we?

If you read my first post, you'd know that I cherished the typical cohesive family unit. Maybe that's why that moment was so important - it was symbolic of our happy family while it was still together. Well, there's two problems with that theory. The first is that my parents weren't there with me and my brother; they were still asleep. I can't remember any faces or bodies actually, not even my brother's, I only remember the scene. Now I understand that you could argue that I cherish this memory because it could still symbolize a happy family even without people being present. But if you read all of my first post, you'd remember that my views have changed, and I don't desire the same cohesive family unit that I used to. Remember that? I'm all about independence and stuff now. So then why does this memory stand out so much? Do I subconsciously still desire the typical family dreams? Hmm, my past trying to remind me of who I am... very intriguing.

So let's try another angle. What if I cherish that memory because it is the prime example of a time that I was at a loss for words. I mentioned above that I couldn't pinpoint the emotion that I felt, so maybe that's what I actually cherish? Well, that could be, but once again I doubt it. When I think of the memory, the image comes to mind before the emotion. So I think it's more of an experience thing. Don't get me wrong, the emotion is very important, but in this case I just don't feel like it's the primary attribute to the memory. Kind of puts us in a pickle, doesn't it?

Well hang on, I'm not done yet. I have another memory that I wage on a similar level. It may not be the greatest moment of my life, but it's up there. Maybe we can use it to help the situation.

Okay, so it's not really a single memory, its more of a single experience (can you figure out what led me in this direction? hehe). This example is also a childhood memory. It's my memory of playing The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, for the first time. I mean just wow. Every time I think back to when me and my brother were playing this game, I remember it being larger than life. To me, that game had no scope, no barriers, no limitations. It was infinite. I can't tell you how epic that game was to me. If I got to choose a time in my life that I wanted to relive, this experience is #2. By today's standards, I feel like I'm jaded. Yea, I still play games, but I don't derive nearly as much enjoyment from them as I used to. Everything was so much more magical when I was a child. I really wish I could get as happy as I used to - or maybe my memories are just amplified?

Let's get into the thick of my memory. So, what are some reasons that it would be so significant? Did the game come to define the person I am today? Well, I wouldn't go that far. It did teach me the value of courage, but I don't really identify myself with the game. It was just an insurmountable experience in my book. So then maybe, it's one of the greatest stories I've ever experienced, and that's why I value it so much. That doesn't seem to work either considering that I don't think the story to the game was all that amazing when compared to some of the other games/movies/shows/books I've played/watched/read over the years. But even so, this game in particular stands out to all others. Maybe it sparked my imagination in a way that no other game did? I can't remember ever imitating the game like I used to imitate other games. I never played "pretend" with this game (maybe because I didn't want to tarnish it? An interesting thought).

Hang on, I'm not getting anywhere. I need a different angle. What did this memory have in common with my first memory? Well, they both made me feel an emotion that I find hard to put into words.

Okay, so maybe I wasn't so far off in the first place.

I remember talking to my brother a few months ago about our experience with Zelda, and I remember getting frustrated at not being able to relive that memory. Maybe I'm scared that I'll never feel that way again in my life?

OR MAYBE

I'm scared that I'll never be aware of the emotion when I'm feeling it. Now that I think about it, when I think of these memories, the indescribable emotion is only here in the present, not in the past. In the past all I felt was happiness, I'm pretty sure of that now. Was I not aware of how happy I was? Am I frustrated because I took those feelings for granted at the time? Why am I worried about not being aware the next time I feel that level of happiness?

I guess it just feels like a missed opportunity. Do you know that feeling you get when you name who the final four are going to be in March Madness, yet you don't fill out a bracket and you end up being completely right? That's a missed opportunity. It sucks doesn't it? But why am I so worried, it's not like I don't reap the benefits of the happiness at the time, it's still a positive emotion. Maybe it's because I know that it won't last...

I think I just got a little depressed. But why though? Is there a finite amount of happiness that an individual can feel? Do we even want to be happy all the time? Is this emotion I feel really fear?

I don't know which way to go on this. Am I really afraid that I am not aware of happiness when it befalls me? I don't know why thinking of these old memories would make me afraid... but when you take into account that I would choose to relive these memories over all others, it makes more sense. My desire to relive is like my safety net. If I will never again experience or be aware of that magnitude of happiness again, I have memories to fall back on. Then that means that I am afraid of the future. Is that really true?

I don't like being afraid.

I told you that The Legend of Zelda taught me the value of courage. It taught me not to be afraid. I'm not going to let the future scare me. It may be full of uncertainty, but with courage I can make it through.

I just changed my decision. If I am given the chance to relive any memory of my life... I will decline the offer. I don't need a safety net if I march forward gallantly and unafraid. I've heard the phrase, "our past defines us" and I used to agree. I'm going to adopt a new outlook from now on. For me, the way I approach the future shall define me. My past is sacred, it has given me the tools to make the decisions that I make today, but it does not define who I am today. I have changed so much from my past, I'm not nearly the same person anymore. Sure, my past is my history, but it does not define who I am. I am characterized by how I approach the future.

Phew, that was invigorating for me. Can you believe that a video game is still teaching me lessons even to this day? To me that is simply amazing.

Question time!

Can you live without your past?

Think about it. Can you exist without a past? I'm not talking about amnesia either. If a person hypothetically had no past whatsoever, could they function as a normal human being?

Until next time, stay frosty.