Sitting here in front of the screen, writing my memoirs, page after page, month after month, it suddenly strikes me that I have absolutely no need whatsoever for experiencing anything new and exciting.
I feel no need for travelling to new places, no need for meeting new people, or reading new books, or watching new movies.
Not because I’m getting old or tired. But because I’m incessantly bombarded with a ceaseless stream of experiences from my past life through notebooks and memories.
Exploring my past eliminates my appetite for new experiences. It’s overwhelming. It’s a blessing.
Originally published on Facebook 11 September 2020, this short post gave rise to a single appreciative comment:
Liz Farthing: To me that’s the power of reflecting and oddly for me I feel like that too … it’s amazing you are writing your memoirs 😊
Thomas Söderqvist: Amazing? 🙂
Liz Farthing: Yes because you are recording your experience of life … and life is transient – I have always found the journey fascinating!