🌿 Sunday Memory Hunt No. 1 “What We Carried”
5 prompts. 1 reflection. Archive what matters.
This week, we remember what we carry—
in our pockets, our hands, our hearts.
Take a photo. Record a voice note. Write a caption.
Or just sit with it for a minute.
1. Bag Check
What’s one object you always carry with you?
What does it say about you?
2. Inherited Weight
What emotional, cultural, or spiritual “weight” was passed to you?
Where does it live in your body?
3. Worn Down
Find an object that’s been used and loved so long it’s showing wear.
Tell its story.
4. Protection Piece
What protects you? Maybe it’s a necklace. Maybe it’s a prayer.
Maybe it’s a sharp tongue.
5. Unpacked Lately
What’s something (or someone) you’ve finally let go of?
Name it. Honor the release.
🌀 Weekly Reflection:
What stories do your objects tell about the lives you’ve lived?
Which ones feel like anchors? Which ones feel like wings?
Want to share?
Tag #SundayMemoryHunt or drop your memories in the comments.
We’re building an archive of memory—one week at a time.
2. Inherited Weight
What emotional, cultural, or spiritual “weight” was passed to you?
🕯️ The sound of my mother hitting the floor.
I was six or seven. My father was absent. My mother was working herself into exhaustion just to keep us fed and sheltered. One night, mid-conversation, she collapsed in front of me. I can still hear the thud.
I was just a kid, but my ancestors were with me. I remember running to the sink, filling a small cup, and splashing water on her face to bring her back.
Ever since that moment, I’ve felt it deep in my bones—if no one else would care for this woman, I would. That day made me protective in ways I still don’t have words for.
This is the weight I carry. Not as a burden—but as a vow.
1. Bag Check
What’s one object you always carry with you?
🩲 An extra pair of underwear.
I’m neurodivergent, and since childhood, I’ve struggled with interoception—my body’s ability to sense internal signals like when I need to use the bathroom. I used to have accidents often, and even now as an adult, it’s something I manage every day. I’ve had treatments, including Botox shots in my bladder. But the simplest thing I do? I carry backup.
It’s quiet protection. It says I know my body. I care for her. I carry her story without shame.