Kodak Moment...

There are certain realizations, certain insights that come to us momentarily but disappear into the fog of forgetfulness soon thereafter. I once heard a shaykh say something about pure souls being the only ones able to carry the knowledge of inward matters (or any useful knowledge for that matter). As a person who struggles daily with the most basic of self-disciplinary mechanisms I find writing what I know (momentarily) may benefit me in the future -- when I might not be aware of what I know right now. I don’t know where I will be in the coming months or years. I don’t know what kind of spiritual state I will find myself in. I don’t know how much of what I know now -- will I remember then, so it makes sense (for me) to capture thoughts and moments I find interesting. (Kind of like how Dumbledore extracts his memories and places them in whatever that fountain thingamajig is called).

Also, I have this eccentric desire to pass on all that I know (and have experienced) to my un-conceived progeny someday.

Perhaps, it’s my family’s fault. You see, whenever we get together we love to share tales from our childhood, our parent’s childhood, and our parent’s parents childhood! It’s as though we’re comparing notes, on life. And I still find it hilarious that my older khalas, my mother, my older cousins, and my generation have at some point tried stealing my grandfather’s cigarettes. (not because we were smokers but for the thrill, silly!) (really, we never inhaled!!). My grandfather, always knew (come on, who wouldn’t realize a broken seal on a brand new packet) but never said anything. I think, my generation takes the award for thickness though because we opted to go for cigars instead of cigarettes- since we saw my grandfather and his friends biting the tip (sadly we didn’t see them spitting it out)- and soon after found ourselves regurgitating the nastiest stuff ever digested by mankind.

But I digress. Another family trait that’s very popular. So yes, I write things because I don’t want to forget them. I want to preserve not just my insights into this thing called life but also my experiences – no matter how dumb they may sound. I would like my children to someday see the different stages of me and perhaps learn a thing or two from my experiences.

How cool would it be for a child, when he/she begins to catch his/her sense, to discover his/her parent’s journals? Wouldn’t it be cool for a young woman to see her mother as a young girl writing about the same issues she finds herself struggling with?