“What will they think of us
When they dig us up?”

– Les Jupes, When They Dig Us Up

There’s something kind of sad about blogging.  You write all these posts that reflect and describe who you are as a person, but they all end up getting buried under one another as time goes by.  Eventually you reach a point where some are so far back in the archives that no one will ever read them again, and they’re forgotten.

In a way it’s a lot like real life.  Experiences, memories, pieces of our personalities are all buried beneath newer content over time, and there are parts of ourselves that no one will ever know.  So many of our interactions in everyday life only ever occur on the surface of the deep abyss that is our identity.  People rarely need or want to know what lies beneath.

It makes me sad to think about all those forgotten posts, written but not read.  And this isn’t just another obvious attempt to get people to read through my archives (although feel free to take it as such).  It makes me think about all the parts of myself that no one will ever get to know, be it here or in the “real world”.  It’s kind of like the old saying about a tree falling in the forest, only in a more existential sense, if that’s possible.

The same goes for old memories.  Sometimes I’ll have these flashes of the past, fragmented memories from my childhood that play incoherently across my mind like damaged rolls of film.  There’s a bittersweet kind of feeling that accompanies these incomplete images, a sad kind of nostalgia for what was, but more importantly regret for not being able to remember more.  It’s like the rest of the memory is just on the edge of my consciousness, and if I could only reach a little father I might be able to grab it…

But they remain out of reach, and all I have left are pieces of a whole.

What’s left is buried somewhere deep within my subconscious, far below newer memories which in turn will be buried beneath newer ones as my life goes on.

And in the end what will remain?  What will I have to show for my life when everything is buried beneath the surface?  All the answers to questions no one ever thought to ask, all the parts of myself which should have mattered, could have mattered, if only they’d seen the surface for just a little longer?  What will become of them?  Will they matter then?  Do they matter now?

I don’t know.

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6 thoughts on “When They Dig Us Up

  1. Think of it as a perpetual present moment display of you right this second. If someone wants to go backwards and connect the dots, so to speak, by looking at older posts and seeing the steps you took to arrive at right now, that’s a good, flattering level of interest. But as most readers don’t tend to plumb the depths of blog archives, consider everything you write the only thing you’ve written and let it stand. I’ve been following your blog for several months now, but if I had just discovered your page today and read only this post, I would have absolutely hit the “follow” button.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I guess I’m still having trouble grasping what it means to be me, or anyone else for that matter. To what degree does our past define us? And at what point does the past become the past? I know I’m supposed to be trying to live in the moment, but does that mean everything else up to this point is moot?

      Liked by 1 person

      1. It means everything up to this point is non-existent, past, irrelevant, and perhaps nothing more than an internal film that feels like “memories”. Same goes for what we call the future which is, in fact, a meaningless word for a non-existent point in time. But here’s where words become woefully inadequate because the trick is to not try to live in the moment or try to do anything (ego does that stuff), and it’s not even a trick. It’s just a mindset that is a perpetual experiencer of every aspect, from subtle to gross, of an eternal but amorphous “right now”.

        Liked by 2 people

      2. I think maybe I’m still hung up on letting things go. I should be following my own advice, but I’m still so filled with regret over mistakes I’ve made that I find myself living in the past when I should be living in the present.
        I’m so glad we have these conversations, because you really are helping me find my internal compass. You’re like my very own personal shaman/guru/spiritual adviser (take your pick).

        Liked by 2 people

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