It depends on every person, how they would like to think about their memories. Well, I probably won’t keep the bad ones for too long, but I guess the nice ones will stay (in what I imagine) .. as mental pendants. A kind of charm, that you can always hold again and reminds you of good things when you happen to stumble a bit in life.
One of these pendants was a trip to Palanga that I did with a friend of mine, C, almost a year ago. It took us three hours by bus to reach the seaside town on the shore of Baltic Sea–which means pretty much crossing half of the country. But there was no rush, both in the journey to get there and during the days spent, and I am glad it went like that. (Especially when looking at it now when everything demands to be done ASAP.)
The beach was only 1 kilometer away from the quiet neighborhood where we stayed, and I remember going to the long-stretched beach by walking through a notable variation of routes. Sometimes we sticked to the asphalt road, sometimes the wooden decks in between bushes, sometimes a hidden path near the rivers where we could see people’s backyards. We made stops where breaks were needed (read: when I needed a break) and just talked about anything that we saw. C would a lot of the time mention tree names, among other nice things.
The ultimate ride itself, the beach, was not a bummer either. It was never really warm in Lithuania — one could only stay in contact with water for a few minutes (seconds?) so we mostly spent the time walking along the beach or reading (with a side of bread and tomatoes). Ah, and watching other people. And looking at the waves and the long shoreline, where time seemingly stopped. It was almost true. The noisy watch that I almost always wear really didn’t do much there: we only got back when a) it was too windy b) it started raining c) we needed food.
But the weather didn’t really bother us either. When the forecast didn’t seem too good for a beach day, we simply switched agenda, direction: Botanical Garden. When it rained, we just needed to take out the umbrella (and C’s waterproof jacket) and the show went on. My biggest worry at that time was really about which strawberries to pick from a local seller. Serious stuff, I know.
Reflecting back to the present moment (where admittedly I am a little bit occupied, if not overwhelmed, by things), I realize that my source of peace comes from such kind of life: one with no rush, one with enough time on your hands to appreciate simple yet beautiful things like walking or seeing birds fly.
Therefore I am holding this charm right now. To remember that peaceful state of mind which I once had, and hopefully capable of having again.