Of the future

Ever realized you try to control the future?

In your desperation, you try to send instructions and orders to a part of you and others.

"Don't change too much."

"You know I'm always going to think of you when this artist plays"

 "I'll love you forever"

"Don't listen to me now and think of me when you are a mother yourself - you'll share my pain"

We are so frail. We don't think we could ever go on without having this one current part of us. That part that maybe is full of happiness and doesn't want to to spoil it. That part that realizes what the comfort of a person brings and wants that couch-and-blanket feeling to stay forever. Or, in some cases, so frustrated at not being proved right, right now, will hold our truths as hostages for the future.

I think it's mavelous. We don't try and solve this by knowing that we will adapt and overcome - that we will perhaps be miserable but even in our misery memories will give us the light that guides us to go on. We deal with it by pretending that our words are invincible against a tomorrow that we don't know. That perhaps if we articulate what we want again and again, just clearly enough, we will keep our status quo constant, we will change outcomes.

Who has seen anything though? Maybe you never become a mother. Maybe you become a mother who won't share that pain because you will have found an out. Maybe you'll not remember that person when the song plays because you'll be busy with another genre of music, making new memories up. Or you become deaf and completely move on from music. I don't think words could account for that.

I am thinking about things I've said and the beautiful things that have been said to me though, as I write this. What does that mean? They didn't change anything. Things.. happened as they had to. Although, maybe the words themselves did survive after all if I am thinking about them. They couldn't affect but they survived and they make me feel. They survived seasons and they survived years and the tones and nuances hit differently every time. But they still make me feel.