memory [Theme] Page 2

Perhaps we can name three stable components of Russian self-awareness. We have already talked about this in part, but we need to repeat it again. The first component of national self-awareness is Orthodox ideas about good and evil, about the world and man. They go with us through the centuries, despite heresies and schisms, revolutions and reactions, atheism and new outbreaks of religiosity. They have firmly entered into the ideological matrix of the Russians, and no reformers can knock them out of it. The second is the collective memory of the historical choices that Russia had to make, being, in the words of Mendeleev, “between the hammer of the West and the anvil of the East.” The third is the Russian type of thinking, combining peasant common sense with cosmic feeling. As the poet said about the Russian mind, “it soberly judges the earth, bathing in a mystical darkness.”

How quickly everything disappears: the very bodies in the world, the memory of them in eternity! What is everything perceived by the senses, especially that which attracts us with pleasure, or repels us with pain, or is glorified by vanity? How insignificant, despicable, base, mortal and dead all this is!

- Yes. Memories are light. The light that leads through the darkness of reality. A light that points out my weaknesses and what I didn't do when I should have. It's hard to realize this. I conquered so many worlds, so many peoples, but I could not keep those who were truly dear to me. And now these memories burn me from the inside. But this flame has some kind of healing heat. He and my memory are bright spots around which darkness swirls. But she hasn't won yet. And she won't win until I let her do it.

Shakespeare... I just don’t remember which thing.

Graves of the dead

We all land in relationship territory with our background. The range includes various cause-and-effect relationships, personal secrets, chronic injuries, difficult memories, unspoken pain, unclosed gestalts, pain points and psychological springs. The luggage is bursting at the seams with resentment and anger, the bag is full of tears, scars and plans. Everyone has an urn with ashes from burned bridges, a backpack with broken records, unanswered questions. First aid kit with afobazole and cozy illusions. Perhaps that's enough? It's time to unload the wagons with this rubbish, put away all the cutlery such as knives in the back and burn the volumes of psychodrama. Enough. Declutter your life and space. This is unnecessary baggage that only pulls you back and makes you mark time. All this, of course, was important, but up to a certain point. We regularly overpay for this with our vital energy and become empty. After every Rubicon you need a reboot. Shake this weight off your shoulders. Save something light as a memory, pass the moment and feel this amazing and pleasant feeling. A new stage begins.

Living without fairy tales is somehow wrong. Even very adult and serious people. Especially now.

Put on your medals!

If you don't understand, remember. Then you will understand.

For me, a real home is a home where happiness lives and smells delicious of homemade baked goods: cinnamon, cloves, almonds, nutmeg and vanilla; a house where photographs with smiles hang on the walls, reminiscent of a joyful moment, love and fidelity; a house where sparkling children's laughter sounds, where the tart, sandalwood, subtle aroma of perfume hovers; a house where there are flowers everywhere, where there is a hooligan, red cat, where on the shelves there are only read books and souvenirs brought from distant corners of our huge, wonderful world; a home to which you want to return, no matter where you are, which is now not just a home, but an integral part of you. Sweet home.

Certificate of publication No. 121020907845

...Fear and hatred sharpen memory...

Memory skillfully erases unnecessary things, hides them in order to one day bring them out into the light.

Whoever needs someone is remembered by him.