When people are asked what they think was the changing point of their life, they often answer with a specific moment, a grandiose event that turned their life around. But we forget that our brain is a masterful trickster, it disfigures and modifies the memories until they shine the light on a particular incident, thus rising it's significance(almost like subliminal messaging). In the process, the real spokes of change - small everyday nuances are forgotten like the fifth wheel, the white crayon.
As we think over and over about our life decisions and choices, particular memories become building blocks of a meaningful monument. They are glorified and exaggerated pieces of an incomplete puzzle which hold only a few little aspects to what truly helped us change. These random portions of the brain don't surmount to much. Albeit significant, they are nothing if not for the small everyday transformations like solving a quick problem or just simply thinking in a bus.
It is like the time of a momentous event. When the event is in progress, people are busy, the shops are crowded and everything moves with fluidity. But when asked about that certain time period, people add up information or fudge it completely. The end result is a piece of recollection that feels to be precise and accurate but in reality is just a consequential looking illusion.
The tedious thing about change is, it’s not the change itself that’s important. Change is the time after sunset but before dark. The time with it's own gradual pace. You want it to be quick, to be one or the other and pass quickly. But when you aren't looking, the extraordinary moment is gone, simply because it never existed.
The turning point of life in the end may be nothing other than our vexatious habit of turning heroes out of anyone possible and trying to glorify the actions of past to suit the needs of the present.
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