When people meet me, they see my image in the present and interpret (even unconsciously) my gestures, sounds and expressions. My history is there, precisely in those gestures, sounds and expressions, and in many other hidden aspects I do not remember.

This set that presents itself is a kind of “final product,” formed from countless marks and creases. Whoever observes the image, however, cannot guess the marks.

Each instant of existence leaves its fold, as in origami, whose beautiful, symmetrical final form hides countless invisible stages of preparation. The final result, which is noticed, qualified and admired, is held up by invisible pillars.

The reflection I see in the mirror today, with so many years gone by, still hides stories I will probably never know.

In us human beings, these creases may be the product of a simple experience or the trace of some trauma. Our brain, through the powerful drive for survival, often hides the events that created the marks deep in oblivion.

The behaviors acquired in reaction to the creases persist, influencing relationships.

Blindness to the scars does not prevent pain from arising, which often appears seemingly for no reason. That pain gives rise to survival behaviors that, outdated, are inappropriate for managing the concrete reality of the present.

Part of self-care is identifying the scars and, as far as possible, trying to understand their origin, understanding their impacts and choosing to try alternative behaviors.

There was a moment when I needed, with compassion for my inner child, to understand and forgive the adults who in some way painfully marked my memory. That search led me to find other adults who marked my experience with affection and validation.

Today, the creases of age have joined my inner creases. More and more I understand, perceive and feel I have greater room to decide, forgive or give thanks. Greater still is the freedom to act with autonomy, without being driven automatically by pain.

On this blue Sunday, I honor each of my inner creases that brought me here. And I keep tracing the intricate path they outline. I appreciate, more and more, the final product.