Not just any old moments you understand, but moments in time that can dramatically change the course or direction of our lives.
Oh and not the kind of cheesy 'perfect moments' that Martine Mccutcheon once sang about. (Remember that? Yuksville.)
definition : Moment (noun)
1. an indefinitely short period of time; instant: I'll be with you in a moment.
2. the present time or any other particular time (usually preceded by the ): He is busy at the moment.
3. a definite period or stage, as in a course of events; juncture: at this moment in history.
4. importance or consequence: a decision of great moment.
5. a particular time or period of success, excellence, fame, etc.: His big moment came in the final game.
There are several moments in my life that I can remember as clearly as if they happened yesterday.
When I was 13, my parents told me that we were moving to Warwickshire. We spent the day at 2 potential new schools, both very different, but academically, equally as good. However, the second school (called Trinity) that I visited, had a somewhat more liberal outlook. Students didn't have to wear uniform, teachers were on a first name basis, and students were encouraged to express their individuality. I remember looking round this school, and being amazed that the teacher in charge of the visit barely spoke to my parents, and instead talked to me as if I was the person that really mattered.
The next day, on a walk with my Mum, we sat on a bench and discussed the options. I vividly remember saying to her, "I have to go to Trinity Mum, I cant explain it, I just know its the right place." Luckily for me, my parents trusted my gut instinct, and I spent 5 happy years at Trinity.
That moment changed my life. It influenced my education, my outlook on life, my faith, beliefs, and also my friendships. If my Mum hadn't trusted me in that moment, things could have turned out so differently.
Another moment I remember well was over 6 years ago, when I was recovering from viral meningitis. I was lying out on the setee, feeling pretty miserable, when the idea came into my head to travel to America and work on a summer camp there. At the time it could have seemed like an impossible idea, I was really ill, and didn't have much money to my name, but in that moment, I knew it was going to be a good thing for me.
Again, how glad I am that I trusted my little old brain in that moment. I now look back at that time I spent in America as one of the most important times in my life, and again, gained amazing friendships and experiences from it.
But what about the moments that I cant remember?
Where have they gone to?
And why cant I remember them?
This is what bothers me.
It feels good to think about moments in time when you feel loved, or happy, or you know that you have made a good decision, but what about all the other moments in your life, what happens to them?
I've been seeing a lot of 18 year olds on their way to A Level exams recently, and it makes me think back to when I was that age.
10 years ago.
I feel frustrated when I think about some of the decisions I made when I was 18. The main one being which university I went to.
I cannot remember any defining moment when I made that decision. Perhaps it doesn't even exist!
All I know is that I visited a friend a few times up at Loughborough University, had a great time, and before I knew it, I was going there too.
Looking back, I feel frustrated because I know that it wasn't the right choice for me. In fact, it couldn't have been more of a polar opposite to my school and my outlook on life. I felt like a fish out of water for much of the time I was there.
I never felt clever enough, or pretty enough, or rich enough, or sporty enough to be there.
Again, there is no defining moment that clarifies this in my memory, just a series of events that left me feeling on the outside.
Perhaps I feel annoyed with myself, because I know that the black dog started following me when I was at university. Maybe I think that if I could recall a moment when I made that decision, I could go back in time and erase the past. Erase the black dog.
A useless logic I know.
Because logically and biologically speaking, I know (and was told by my psychiatrist) that my depression is genetically inherited through different avenues in my family, and that if the depression hadn't started then, it would have at some point.
But when does my crazy brain ever take the logical route?!
I think this is something I need to think more about.
I feel there is definitely another post in the pipeline on this subject. But for now, I must depart from here as I'm feeling rather peckish....!