Uncorking Memories

It is Armistice Day and today I have got the privilege having my other significant home with me. We woke up early and walked to Pain Quotidien to have a quick breakfast before the loud customisers invade and take over the cozy space. It is a grey day and traffic is in Sunday mode and arrive their without having to get the umbrella out. Once inside we get seated and served in a record time with smile. While sipping of my lovely cappuccino and nibbling of my tasty hibiscus croissant P said:’It is a typical 11th November day.’ I looked up from my granola and looked out of the window and saw some leaves flying by the shop window and people wearing thick winter coats and long wooly scarfs. No sun ray in sight and rather colourless skies that scream out something that I rather try to hide…especially since a few years. They include memories that I got to create together with a special soul who alwasy loves Pain Quotidien. Needless to say that she is with me once I walkt in there and order to pain au chocolat. Even at a day such as this when the moral miget be a bit low and you know that many of us are using this day to remember those chapters of the human existence that cut deep. Liking it or not, many deep going sensations creep back into my core. Over the last few years I have the tendency to let my memory bottles being sealed and not open them. Why? The short answer is that it makes my life a lot ‘easier’ and moving fast forward without having to open a specific gate that just makes me feel a lot more vulnerable. Over the last five years tons of things made me believe that I just need to move on and as my 21 year old son told me last week:’Mum, some people would use ‘embrace it’ when they have to deal with things like this.’ I stood there in our hallway and hit me that I have been refusing to embrace a huge amount of events and feelings that just make me feel helpless and utterly saddened. No…believe me I am not depressed. It is not that kind of feeling. I have been keeping the lid on my memory bottles because they contain not only sweet memories, but also the ones that can cause me to grief and go into a state that I can only describe as despair. Two things that I just can not seem to give the space to breath and take into the emotional space they deserve. Rather I let them swim around in tiny bottles that now and then might change color and get moved around in a humid cellar where I even not dare to replace the light bulb in order to find those that I wish to open and let their smells, taste and colours wash over my heart and mind. I have tried to peel of the wax of those tiny and different bottles. They are laying there waiting in the dark for me and some of them have got some straight forward etiquettes that clearly tell you what awaits me when pouring them into a glass. Others might not make any sense whatsoever if you have not been with me when creating them. One glance over them makes me shiver and getting hot flashes at the same time. The moment that I hold out to one of them and that I feel ready to uncork one I suddenly freeze and change my mind. Call it what you wish to what I am doing in my cellar of memory bottles. Some of you might label it being fear and others might call it self preservation. And you might be right about that..the thing is that I tend to let my memory bottles be of a less prestigious vintage. I tend to stare at them and then dive into a someones cellar who contains tons of other bottles that need attention and might need to be opened up as well. I tend to rather sip and over the last two years I have tons of my loved one let them pick out a bottle or two. When I then compare my collection I just move on. Not that I have got no people who let me grab a bottle and tell me that they love to have a sip of those memories. I still have got friends around that know that I have got the tendency lately to hide my bottle collection for the sake of things that just make life a bit easier. Stallie hides behind sarcasm and quick words that might just help you to locate the bottle quickly. I then let you get to that specific page of my menu so that you know where I am lingering my finger around. But before you know I slap the door of my cellar closed and you will feel that I push you away from that gate to my innercore. Stil, you will also sense that I have got no desire to uncork the bottle in your company. Please do not take this personal…it is rather self preservation and at the some time it is something that I just do not have got not found the right words. Not yet...but it is very alive and kicking. Unless you then refuse to leave the labyrinth that I have been leading you through and peel it off yourself. You might then be lucky that I will let you in...at times I might but the core bottles I am still moving to the back of the cellar. Today of all days I got to pull the lid of tons of memory bottels and it goes very deep. Oh yes, Armistice Day is also called Remembrance Day. It might be the perfect timing to embrace that one memory bottle that has been collecting dust in your inner cellar. The wording on it might be already fading a bit. There are tons of of monuments out there in my nation that will remind me of what we lost and what many of our ancestors had to endure so that we today get to enjoy and relish our freedom and pursuit of what you consider important in our existence. While standing in my bedroom I poured out the liquid that over the last two years had changed into a rather thick and sticky liquid. It used to be a rainbow coloured one and contained tons of sparkles. The bottle tended to leak and would always be pushing itself to the upper shelf of the rack. It used to be a bottle that for years let rest in darkness due to the fact that it was of such a powerful taste that I would love to drink the whole Magnum bottle in one go. Scared that once it would be empty that there was nothing left to cherish and hold close to my heart. Today on the day that many people in the world take a few seconds or even hours to dive into their private or community owned cellar to scratch of the wax seal of a specific bottle something hit my core. We all have got those bottles that contain suffering and tons of rather painful memories that will evoke pain and grief. Not sure that this day therefor seemed very suiting to move on to the one of the bigger bottles that I already wished to open in order to let the sensations and memories just roll and take over my inner core. Leading me to the spots where I have been in the company of someone who knows me so well... One that one day that death and the trees and the weather play that one symphony of loss I did click on the play button. And I just let it happen…it all came out. I stood in the rain, in the snow and poured out bubbles of delight, cheered and cried...and at the same time I knew that I never again would be able to reproduce again the same taste sensation. Within the words that I came out one way I was able to locate another bottle that contained sweet taste notes that evoked some pure joy. Tears were running down my cheeks and while I am typing away I try to hold them back. Scared that they will stop me and rather will push those sparkly and rainbow filled up bottles into an ‘oubliette’. My fingers try to let me fly over words that contain the power to unlock a power that is beyond and contains elements that are so much more powerful than the ones that paralyse or numb me. What is inside of them are home crafted, unique and very deep going feelings that have made the difference at times. That I had to move the bottles I got to create with others to the back was not always to my liking or my choice. It at times feels rather that I let them move my bottles around like pawns on a chessboard and when my opponent would decide that my rock had to give in and I even lost my queen to theirs I just faced bravely chess mate. Stallie is not good at chess and Duo the owl keeps telling me that I should try harder to think ahead. The thing is that I respect my opponent and let them open their cupboard first. You get first choice rather than letting me pick out the one I long for to open. Today I just ripped open tons of bottles….the ones that I have been ignoring because they now also have got a dash of darkness, death, pain, grief, despair and longing added to them. The sparkle within them is fading away and rather contains spots of decay. The thing is that ignoring them was not the right thing to do either…I knew that…the thing is that I wanted to uncork them in the company of the person who helped to create the colours, tastes and smells that I find within them. That is just somehting that I had to face without having to deny the existence of the memories. While listening to others opening up their very own bottles I realised that if I would wait too long that perhaps something of the ‘magic’ might fade away. Plus that there are ways to let the memory float back into the bottle after opening them. It was if I hold back to move forwards. Scared that they would turn in to empty vessels that would only contain tiny particles of the real thing. How wrong I was…. while I stood barefoot on the wooden floor of my bedroom and stared outside where autumn is racing through nature and our minds I just made me heart flow over. I moved some bottles back from the bottom shelf and did decant them. Some them I did shake them even a bit before peeling of the seal in order and the hope to bring back the sparkle that was resting on the bottom of them. Others I jsut knew needed nothing extra because they speak for thembselves. An hour later I looked back on my collection of bottles and something extra is now added to my cellar. It is hard to describe...still it is there and a few bottles have been added. Therefor I do sincerelyt hope that you now and once also find the courage and the time to grab that one bottle and not stare at…it deserves to breath once in a while. Its’ taste might hit you right behind the eyes and your palate might need some extra time to adjust. Don’t feel forced to open them up…just peel gently the cover of and let the content slowly roll over your soul…gently…and breath in…you might need a tissue or not and facing it might evoke a salty aftertaste…breath out…it is real…it is magic becoming real…real within…