Every story has a beginning. A start. A first sentence captivates, and entices readers. A prose, dialogue, a simple word. A beginning ignites a story. Remembered by the author. And later, the reader. Yet, for human lives, our beginnings are not personal accounts. Most do not remember their birth, or recall their firsts. Others do. Parents document each step, each new tooth, every moment and look. Recalled in their memories, or in a baby book. Unlike books, our personal beginnings start with first memories. A baseball game, or another an airplane. Mine: a birthday party. My beginning starts with my 2nd birthday.
In fall, the month of October, I remember colors of red, toy cars and birthday hats. Friends and family sitting in chairs, on the patio. Words were murmurs, mumbles, and blares. Inarticulate sounds, and incomprehensible stares. The crisp grass, and trees, adorn with thick leaves, as tall as the sky. Pictures, smiles, laughing and crying. Grabbing toys and running. These slight memories remain my first. I cannot recall anything before that. Nor remember a detailed account. I’m left with distilled memories of others, from mother, father, or grandmothers. My brief memories of beginning.
These cognitions of life, brain waves, electrical currents of memories, start thought. Start our story. They are the birth of memory. Mind behind the body. No matter how far we look, we reach an edge. An edge mysterious like the Universe. Lives expanding, no end in sight, aside death. We see forward and back, to a point. First memories unknown. Untouched. For our beginnings rely not on ourselves, but the words of others.
Beginnings are not found within the self, but outside. In space. In time. Around others, between walls. In whispers, murmurs. Touch and sight. Triumph and plight.
To look out, and not in. That, I believe, creates change and creates the self.
Stay humble. Work hard. Be kind.
CT
The Creative Theorist 
What I like most about beginnings is that they are not absolute, at least not for collectives or a group of people, what may seem like a start might look like the ending or the middle point for someone else, and still it has it’s magic 🙂
That’s very true. The view is on the eyes of the beholder, right? Never thought of it like that! Thanks for sharing: )
Nice writing! So inspiring and deep. 🙂
What’s interesting though, at least for me, apparently the way I remember my beginning is completely different than the way other people remember my beginning.. Made me questioned, is memory really a reliable source for our story?
Thank you very much!
That is a very true statement. Memory may not be the most reliable source of accounting the past. That’s probably why social media, journals and other activities, like blogging, are so popular with people. To document, and never forget, our experiences in our lives. 🙂
Huh, never thought of it that way.. haha
Yeah. 🙂 quite interesting non? haha
Beginnings and the journey are as epic as the final accomplishments!
Well said!
Thank you! I believe it! 🙂
Wow! Those are some lovely thoughts. I especially loved how you used shorter sentences to add an urgency to the tone. Keep writing, you have a wonderful gift! 🙂
Thank you very much! I shall press onward! 🙂
Beautiful piece. Your language is somehow very powerful. And you have interesting thoughts as well. The idea of my own birth and beginnings never crossed my mind. What were my first memories? Probably around the time I learned how to speak. Anything before that is a blank.
Thank you very much. Yes, I think most of my memories are from when I could speak, or make sounds that were words. 🙂
You have a way of weaving through words and thoughts that’s truly impressive. Keep at it. Funny you remember so far back – or early. I don’t. I’ve noticed that some of my “memories” are actually only built from the stuff of photo albums and family tales, and over the years they take up a consistency that makes them so very real
Thank you for your kind words 🙂 Yes, I also don’t remember every thing in my life. All those photo books would help trigger those past memories. I guess that’s why people love to take photos, to look back on the past. Nostalgia.
Very poignant. The phrase, “before you were even a twinkle in your daddy’s eye” comes to mind. When do we begin? I believe it is long before we are aware of it – but then, awareness is its own kind of beginning.
Thanks 🙂 I guess that phrase can come to mind in the situation of beginnings. It’s the perception of time, our time, thats the beginning. My beginning was before my birth, but my beginning memories were after. Also, I like your use of the word poignant. 🙂
Great writing, really!
Beginnings are not found within the self, but outside. In space. In time. Around others, between walls. In whispers, murmurs. Touch and sight. Triumph and plight.
Thank you so much!