On the fourth day in Rome, we went to a Fleamarket and 2 of the significant churches.
After the last of the two churches, my brother-in-law commented: "I am not even sure why we do these things. I was in this church 12 years ago, and when I entered today, it was like I had never been there before."
A few days before we discussed literature, and some of the classics he read recently, I read 25 years ago and did not remember anything from the narrative.
So, why do we do the things we do?
Why do we travel to see churches we might forget?
Why do we read books that might fade from our memory?
Well. Because we are alive. Because the process of living, of leaning into the universe, touching the people we meet, absorbing from what is, adjusting to the immediate changes, or initiating them is what we do as humans.
The argument is the same as with newborn babies. Some might argue it does not matter if they cry for half an hour. They will forget anyway. Or if you lie a bit to your two-year-old, saying you were working while drinking coffee with a friend. They will never know, they say.
This is not true.
We all know intuitively we have to ease the frustration of the newborn. Nothing is more apparent to the human mind. The baby's cries call out for a response because life is what happens. Now. And because we take work us the vibe, the emotional quality, the essence of what happened.
The memories we can clearly present a few or a lot of years after the fact are not the same as the experience and the personal growth we take with us from all situations in life.
Our interaction with life is what defines us, what makes us who we are, and even if we do not remember the church or the novel, we did still absorb it, grow from it, and take it into our complex mosaic of existence.
So, yes: It is always worth it to ease pain, choose beauty, read novels, and stay present.
It is not about remembering.
It is about being and becoming. About nuances in our perceiving. About the quality of our presence.
Love and light
Cecilie Conrad
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