What Got Left Behind

I have left behind many people, places and things over the course of my life. Some were meant to be left, as I had outgrown them, or they had outlived their usefulness. Some I regret leaving behind, as I loved them more and perhaps was not ready to let them go.
From a young age, I learned to let go of things, and people, I loved. It readily appeared as a life lesson, and was presented to me over and over again. It still pops up in my life to this day. As a matter of fact, I count this life lesson as one of my favorites, for it gives much delight and satisfaction to practice it. By that I don't mean that I relish leaving things, places and people behind. But in some way, I am able to appreciate all of it in a much deeper way, when given enough time and distance. The letting go enables the perspective.
Certainly, there is also a cleansing aspect to "leaving behind" as well. I recently read a piece on the way that memory can obscure identity. Our minds become clouded by our memories, and we experience the present through the lens of our past experiences. This is the human condition, one could argue. To transcend this, we can reach towards the divine already within us. The divine within is a agent of renewal. So, to "let go" is to "let God" in a very real sense. When I let go of a place, person or thing that I am leaving behind, I am letting God cleanse my memory and restore me to my true identity.
Here is a picture of something that got left behind. It is a pair of painter's pants, which were popular when I was a teenager. I loved those pants...they were comfortable and they fit well. When I became ill during my sophomore year of college, we moved to California. Somehow, in the rush and confusion of that period, the painter's pants got left behind. All I have left now is a few photos of me wearing them, down at the beach near Jimmy's at Savin Rock in West Haven, Connecticut. I was seventeen, and in the full flower of my youth. Looking at the pants in the photo, I can recall the memory of who I was at that time. Life folds over, and for a brief instant, my identity is one with the person in the photo.
The pants were left behind, but I wasn't. I am here now, with my memories filtering my experience, while I endeavor to be mindful of their true purpose. It's an ongoing project.