Memory

I'm still struggling to master the piece that I'm supposed to play on the guitar by tomorrow. I've gotten pretty good but I still need to iron out some kinks. I know that to most people it's be pretty obvious, but the more I practice, the better I get. It becomes automatic. My fingers fall on the strings at the same time, all in the exact position that they are supposed to be, while the other hand strums exactly when it's supposed to. They say it's called muscle memory, that if you practice a particular movement over and over again, your body remembers it and does it without you thinking. Needless to say, even though it's pretty common place, I'm pretty amazed by it.

And while playing the guitar and thinking about muscle memory, my thoughts led me to thinking about actual memory. The thoughts of things gone. They're more than just thoughts, pictures in you head. When you remember something, you remember everything about it. The way you felt, what you were thinking at the time, and even small things like scents and tastes. The most wonderful and the tragic of things remain with you as if you were expreiencing them all over again. You feel as if no time has passed at all, that you were back there when it all happened. God may not have allowed us to travel through time, but we have a pretty good substitute. Our memories are all we ever truly have. Keep them close. Each and every one of them.