What we want to remove from the past is often what holds us together.

We sometimes think of the past as something we would like to fix:
to erase traumatic events, cut out painful moments,
to imagine ourselves “cleaner,” “more whole,” “different.”
But we rarely consider that it is precisely these events
that brought us to where we are now —
not as decorations or symbols,
but as structural changes.

An interesting fact:
Trees are able to remember.
If a tree is exposed to wind for a long time, or grows on a slope,
its trunk gradually forms a microscopic tilt in that direction.
This phenomenon is called reaction wood.
And the paradox is that this distortion
does not weaken the tree —
it makes it stronger.
The tree does not “heal” from the impact.
It rebuilds itself around it.

We often want to save ourselves — the person we were before the trauma.
But that person no longer exists —
and perhaps never existed in the form we imagine.
Those who want to remove trauma from their past
often fail to notice that without it
they would not have the inner configuration
that allows them to stand now.
Not because trauma is “necessary,”
but because change becomes possible only
when there is a necessity to change.
The paradox is that we try to protect ourselves
from something that has already become part
of the load-bearing structure.

Digital drawing, 2026