When we go to the beach, I end up with a bag of shells.
I’m a collector, therefore I am.
In random drawers in my house you’ll find little bags of unmarked seashells.
When I stumble upon these , I am sometimes sad to not remember where each bag is from.
And then I had a thought. I can dump all the shells into one jar.
The accumulation of the fuzzy beach memories makes me happy.
The sum of my life experiences has made me who I am.
That is the bigger picture and the larger jar of shells.