Perfect Imperfections

Memories are constant companions in our lives. They know who we are, where we come from, what we have done in our lives and have travelled with us all through our lives. They are not teachers …they are more like friends. They don’t preach or teach, rather they are with you in every new experience, creating a feeling of nostalgia, rarely trying to correct you, but mostly letting you be…. imperfect as you are. Memories and experiences are different in that sense. Experiences are teachers but memories are friends.

The best part of memories is that the more imperfect they are, the better friends they make. And to think of it, life is never picture-perfect. Your larger achievements and failures become profound experiences, but the smaller, not so significant, yet personal moments spent with friends, family, or even all alone, are those that create sweet memories to cherish. In your present life, they make you smile, mostly at the sheer silliness and vulnerability, the spontaneity, the naivety, of you of yester years. But they are special because they had you in them, sometimes alone, sometimes shared with a special friend, a chance acquaintance or an accidental accomplice you never met later in life, they all mattered so much in your life gone by. 

Memories unconditionally connect you to your nostalgic yet imperfect past life, never judging you or preaching good wisdom. They always tell you…it’s alright to be wrong, it’s alright to try and fail, it’s alright to cry, to be yourself, to be human. Your present life is perfect and beautiful because of the memories that ground you to the past, however imperfect they may be. But then…isn’t every human story full of glorious imperfections? What’s yours?