The past is just a story we tell ourselves

I remember when the e-book boom began—many of my friends were worried that it would mark the end of paper books. As they predicted, I now see many people reading books and newspapers on Kindles or iPads. I’m not an expert in this field, so I can’t say precisely how things have changed or how they will continue to change. But I do know one thing: I still prefer paper books.

Suddenly, I found myself wondering—why do people, including myself, miss things from the past? As if the past were a kind of utopia, we decorate our memories and say, “Those were the good days” (and wish we could go back, if only it were possible). The happiest moments always seem to lie in the past—moments we can no longer hold, even the painful ones. We paint them in bright colours, contrasting them with the present.

I used to think this was because the past is unreachable—like a childhood toy growing further away as time goes on. But I’ve come to realise that this emotion isn’t really connected to how I felt at the time, but rather how I remember it now. Because I choose how to interpret the past, it becomes like a toy from childhood. Nostalgia is something I create and control.

Our life is what our thoughts make it.
You have power over your mind – not outside events. Realise this, and you will find strength.
Very little is needed to make a happy life; it is all within yourself, in your way of thinking.
— Marcus Aurelius

The desire to relive the past makes me linger in those moments. My captive mind tempts me to repeat old experiences or to search for anything that resembles them. It helps me look away from present loneliness or pain, but it also pulls me away from the present altogether.

Everything I feel is shaped by how I choose to interpret the moment after it has passed. That feeling is real, yes—but once the moment is gone, all that remains is what I choose to carry with me. I believe I can truly move forward only when I reinterpret how I felt about that moment.

Paper books or e-books—there is no right or wrong. I simply enjoy the smell of ink and paper, and the form of a physical book. Even if newer, more advanced formats emerge, I will still love paper books—not just because of what they are, but because I choose to love them.