Relics From Our Childhood

One of my favourite sitcom episodes is "Storm in a Tea Chest", from "Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads".  In this particular episode, the Bob Ferris character, played by Rodney Bewes, agonizes over whether to dispose of some of his childhood nik naks and keepsakes, such as toys, books and such like, which are all contained in an old tea chest.

The dilemma is presented to Bob because he has just moved into a new house, and his wife Thelma is averse to what she regards as clutter. Bob, on the other hand, realises how his life is undergoing changes, and is anxious to retain a link to his past, and to assert his own identity.

I have myself recently been ruminating over this subject, prompted by a couple of very different occurences. Some of my recent philosophical reading has centred on the need to maintain some contact with one's beginnings, and not to become divorced from a sense of roots and humility. Then, yesterday, I saw a picture of a teddy bear on the internet, and this sowed a seed in my mind!

Upon closer contemplation, it has dawned on me that I have retained very few reminders of my childhood years, save for a few fairly inconsequential items. This situation has arisen for two main reasons. My mother was always virulently opposed to things being "hoarded" in her house, and lots was therefore disposed of. More importantly, however, in my late teens and twenties, I lost contact with my past and my identity as an individual, retreating into my own "bubble", which merely gave the illusion of comfort and contentment. Little did I know how hollow and misguided this approach was.

My biggest regret in this area is discarding things such as football and comic annuals, and diaries. It is a sign of how divorced I was from my true "self" for much of my adult life, that I did not wish to maintain any sense of continuity or progression, but just preferred to sleepwalk from crisis to crisis. Getting rid of the aforementioned items may also have been a sub-conscious attempt on my part to distance myself from years past, in parallel with the many deluded "relaunches" which have punctuated my life.

Tangible reminders of our formative years, and beyond, can help us to determine how we travelled to our current point, and in some ways indicate how we can plot a path back there, to those carefree days of innocence and purity, or at least to the mindset which still prevailed at that stage.

Some of us whose existence became largely devoid of such mementos, or at least the state of mind which they helped to foster, were forced to take a very different route back to where it all began.