What do you collect?
I collect wine corks, art supplies, cycling swag, puppy love kisses, trucker hats and tank tops. I also have a collection of special adoptions from Iraq, Turkey, Dubai, and my time spent while overseas. More importantly I collect memories, and verbal sentiments, I collect wisdom, ideas, and fruitional experiences that mold my energy.
I guess it is natural to do all of that – to collect – along your life you admire, you store, you show off what you’re proud of.
What means the most to you? The idea of holding onto, or remembering what you’ve placed in your memory bank. I have trouble remembering certain things – maybe it’s my abusive and traumatic childhood, or maybe it’s the fact that I put my everything into what’s directly in front of me – and I only have room for a calculated amount. I don’t have photos of my family or friends hanging up on my walls – but I do have the incredible, like INCREDIBLE books and albums my Father has made of our family history, and of his life-shifting (like he’s so talented) writings of love – and then I have social media – but I don’t print photos out anymore.
I have said this before – I like to feel temporary because permanency totally freaks me out – and with the exception of those I love – even my surroundings feel short-lived. My walls are covered with art – art that I sell – so one day, they will be replaced with another piece.
My physical collections are merely a portion of who I am, what I like, and what pleases me – my soul collections however, are what carry me, what make me feel whole – they are the identity and foundation of how I speak, contribute to the world, my compassion, and how I am able to heal. Collecting these unseen things are the most important to me – and then I think about getting older and what that means.
How do I share my history, my story? I do that through my personal collection of writings and storytelling, and as Ernest Hemingway once said “All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed” – these soulful collections allow me to do just that – and the best part is once I write them out, they are purged – not lost forever, but the weight is no longer mine to bear. I hope I don’t lose my mind later in life – but I know now at the end of this note, that my words, created by my mind while I still have it – are my most precious collections.
I hope you find your special collection – one that defies time, touches hearts, and is offered to the world.