I was musing about some recent memories that will remain sweet memories. The place, the atmosphere, the experience could never be had again, never in the same way at least. I didn’t know it then, and I wondered if it would have made a difference. We never realise each moment is so unique, people too... memories are always being made but never the same ones... and I think... instead of clutching my old memories or old places or people gone by, why not think of myself as a passer-by in a bus, literally journeying through space and time? I am seeing things through the window, almost as if I am experiencing them myself... but also every minute I am moving on... leaving some views behind, finding new things to look at... it doesn't diminish the joys I had just because I know they are always passing me by in a sense... and there is always more to come... it's not that what comes will be better or worse but it's just that one accepts the journey for what it is. One knows that all one has is this journey and all one has is oneself through which this journey is a journey. Everything is transient, ephemeral, including oneself. So there is no point holding on too tightly...