About two month ago prior to writing this essay, I finished an animated movie that greatly changed my outlook on "the past". The movie, called "your name" and di-rected by Makoto Shinkai, centered around two main characters: a teenage boy living in an urban city and a teenage girl living in rural areas of Japan. The two characters, at the beginning of story, found themselves having their body swapped with each other in their dreams. The phenomenon happens two or three times a week, and they return to their own respective bodies after the a full day each swap. Yet, one day, the two char-acters stop swapping bodies. Slowly, their memories of each other started to grow fainter and fainter each passing day. "Treasure the experience. Dreams fade away after you wake up". This was the line told by the girl's grandma to the boy in the movie, and what precipitated me into deep thought. Memories are, in some sense, similar to dreams. They may be easy to recall, yet hard to grasp. Through time, memories and dreams fade. Memories fade eventually, so what's to point in recalling anything? If memories fade for everyone, why is it such a sad event to "lose memory"?

  Often, memories are insignificant. I don't remember how many times I went to bathroom today one year ago. I don't remember what I did at home that made my mom so angry three weekends ago. Sometimes I don't even remember what I ate yesterday night. While I've actually experienced all the memories myself, I gradually forget them after a period of time. Although the memories are forgotten, I don't feel anything from them. These memories are considered insignificant by me, and I don't give chase of what's lost. If we look at it this way, memories aren't "important". After all, what's im-portant is "present", and this "present" make up "future". The past is "past", so what's the point in giving it any thought?

  For the next few days after watching the movie, I was clouded with thoughts. Every answer I came up with seemed to again lead to the same question. "Is the "past" really more "unimportant" than "present" and "future"? People are often told not to "dawdle on the past" and to "look forward to the future" and "do your best in the pre-sent". If so, what is the indescribable feeling I felt when the two main characters, through distance and time, gradually forget each other? Why would I even have the de-sire for them to remember each other, even after I know they would gradually forget?
 

After a week of pondering, I left the question open without answering it. The question was left hanging for a while, until about five days ago, when we moved.
 

Having lived in the same environment for all my life, "home" had a special mean-ing for me. It had housed me from my earliest memories, and accompanied me through endless cycles of happiness and sorrows encountered throughout my life. While I felt nothing for the few weeks before the move, an impact hit me hard when I was finally picking what to bring with me to the new house. Suddenly, panic filled my heart. That night, I stayed up, worried about what I should bring with me. For the few days, I was unable to understand what caused me the trouble in deciding. Broken toys. kindergar-ten doodles. Used crayons. All of them suddenly seemed so precious when I was about to leave them. I have always thought of myself as a less emotional person. I believed I would live a happy life by doing my best. So......why?

  To answer this question, first look at the population around the world. There are 7 billion people currently alive around the globe, each with their own stories behind them. Each person has a record of their own respective stories inside their mind. These are what we call "memories". Let's say today, you are born an identical twin. Not only are your facial features similar, you also have similar physiques. One day in kindergar-ten, you play a game with your twin. You switch your name around to see if anyone would notice the difference. At the end of the day when you find that no one noticed, you decide to continue the game. Each day after waking up, you would switch your name with your twin. This continued for over a year, until finally, one day, you noticed you have lost track of what your name really is. In this situation, who are you, exactly? What defines you? Or rather, what "defines" a person? What makes the difference be-tween the 7 billion people around the globe? The answer, without a doubt, points to "memory". Each person have different happenings in their past, and each have their own unique record of these stories. Because of this, a person's memory decides who they really are. The past cannot be rectified, thus, a person's past actions is what de-cides who he or she really is. Memory serves to represent every part of a living being. From outer appearances to personality as years past by, memories is the record of all. In other words, a person's past and memory is the definition of that same person, and nothing else would be able to replace.
 

Upon deciding on what to dispose of while moving, I hesitated. I hesitated since what I am about to throw away is the most precious piece of "me". It is what decides on who I am. I didn't want to lose any part of connections to my past life. I feel like if I throw away anything in my life, I won't remember it in the future. To me, that fear is what cre-ates nostalgia. That fear is why feelings of separation and nostalgia is a negative emo-tion instead of a positive one. It is an inapparent form of fear. The fear of "losing" memory. The fear of "losing meaning to exist". Now, I slowly started to understand the meaning behind the movie lines, and why it brought me into deep thoughts. "Treasure the experience. Dreams fade away after you wake up". Since "memories fading" is a given event that everyone experiences, "treasuring everything" is important. Objects can exist for a lifetime if it is preserved well, so, when the time comes, it may become the only link to the past.