breaking the ice

I have spent the whole day in trying to muck out my room. Going through old pictures, postcards, souvenirs and maps from long passed travels, note books of meetings I attended in the last millennium, all these handwritten letters form people who had an enormous influence on who I am today. Old birthday wishes and presents, feedback letters from events and seminars. It made me think about time a lot.
Our life is like a symphony; every note just makes sense because of the note that was played before and the note that will be played after. I enjoyed a lot of wonderful melodies this afternoon. Reading those old letters, or even just looking at the addressor of the letters was enough to think of old stories, long gone laughter and tears, made me feels the heaviness of some moments and the lightness of others. Seeing which dreams I had when I moved to Vienna almost 10 years ago, seeing what concerns and worries my friends had then. It was like looking at places that I do not pay much attention to at the moment, and whilst doing so I was also taking time for myself, which got rather rare lately.
It made me want to meet people that I used to love, that I trusted, that formed my character. There were pictures that made me feel old and there were lines I read that made me feel immature, I remembered games that I used to play a lot with friends who I used to live with.
Some mail, that according to the postal stamp was sent seven year ago, seemed only two minutes away. I read poems that I wrote as a teenager and it was stunning how some of them made my intestines hurt and others made me giggle!