CLAUSURA / CLOSURE
Todo o que vivirás rematará sen ti decatarte.
Caín nisto fai tempo, cando lin nun vídeo esta frase:
"Ou sexa que non mentían, a uni realmente sí remata un día cualqueira".
Mirei atrás, e chocoume porque realmente sí é así: sempre que rematas algo, hai un punto no que se pon de manifesto que moitas veces, non existe ningún momento no que se poida dicir que realmente "o remataches".
Dende o máis sinxelo ata o máis profundo; un día calquera xogaches por última vez no parque ao que ías de pequeno, un día calquera durmiches por última vez co teu peluche da infancia.
Un día calquera remata o colexio e comeza o verán, e outro día calquera remata o verán e comeza o instituto.
Un día calquera pisarás por última vez a casa na que creciches. Un día calquera falarás por última vez co teu mellor amigo, verás por ultima vez ao teu irmán.
Un día calquera desaparecerás do mundo, e nunca poderás mirar atrás, e saber en que momento rematou todo. Porque nese momento, ti xa non estarás.
Esto e desalentador, recórdanos o pouco control que temos sobre as cadeas de causalidades do universo. Flotamos no tempo coma un náufrago no mar, levados por correntes que sentimos, pero que non podemos modificar. Interactuamos co espazo sen problema, pero o tempo escápasenos. A día de hoxe, no ano 2023, despois de 2.002.023 anos de humanidade, temos cero capacidade de controlalo.
Creo que é por isto que temos tantos "ritos" ou costumes que marcan inicios e finais: unha forma de darnos unha marca eventual e non temporal, de aquilo que nos sucede. Isto sucede despóis de isto. E isto, antes de isto. Pero estas marcas són so unha ilusión para a memoria. Sabemos que cando pensamos "cando me graduei no instituto?" ou "cando cumplín 18 anos?", os nosos recordos nos levarán a eses eventos ligados á nosa memoria. A ceremonia na que os meus compañeiros recolleron o diploma, e o vídeo de recopilación de momento de cada un deles... A enorme festa que fixen naquela casa polo meu cumple, con todos os meus amigos...
Na nosa mente son eventos discretos. Pero estes eventos, tamén rematan. E cando o fan, quédanos voltar de noite a casa andando, en silencio. Sentindo o vento do tempo cruzando os nosos ósos, quédanos recoller os restos da festa coa música apagada. Quédanos tumbar na cama, mirando ao teito, botar de lado todas esas emocións, e ir durmir. E son estes momentos, nos que nos decatamos: só cando caemos na conta de que rematou, podemos dicir que rematou. O fin de ano non remata nas campanadas. En todos os momentos, etapas, eventos da nosa vida, o final está na nosa mente.
Somos nós quenes temos que darnos clausura.
Everything you will ever experience will end without you realizing it.
I became aware of this, when I stumbled upon this sentence in a video:
"So they weren't lying, university really does end on some random day."
I took a look back, and it struck me because it really is true: every time you finish something, there's a point when it becomes evident that many times, there's no moment when you can truly say that you've really "finished" it.
From the simplest to the deepest things; one day like any other, you played for the last time in the park you used to go to as a kid, one random day, you slept for the last time with your childhood teddy bear.
One random day, school ends and summer begins, and another random day, summer ends and high school starts.
One random day, you'll step foot inside the house you grew up in for the last time. One random day, you'll speak to your best friend for the last time, one day you'll see your brother for the last time.
One random day, you'll disappear from the world, and you'll never be able to look back and know when everything ended. Because then, you won't be there anymore.
This is disheartening, reminding us of how little control we have over the chains of causality in the universe. We float in time like castaways in the sea, carried by tides we can feel but can't alter. We interact with space without issue, but time eludes us. As of today, in the year 2023, after 2,002,023 years of humanity, we have zero control over it.
I believe this is why we have so many "rites" or customs that mark beginnings and endings: a way to give ourselves an circumstantial, not temporal, mark of what happens to us. This happens after this. And this, before this. But these marks are merely illusions for our memory. We know that when we think, "When did I graduate high school?" or "When did I turn 18?" our memories take us to those events tied to our memory. The ceremony where my classmates collected their diplomas, and the video compilation of everyone's moments... The massive party I had at that house for my birthday, with all my friends...
In our minds, these are discrete events. But these events, they end too. And when they do, all that's left is walking home at night, in silence. Feeling the wind of time passing through our bones, picking up the remnants of the party when there's no music. Lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, setting aside all those emotions, and going to sleep. And it's in these moments when we realize: only when we realize it's over, can we say it's over. New Year's Eve doesn't end with the toll of the bell. In every moment, stage, event of our lives, the end lies in our mind.
We must give ourselves closure.