How important is our past? Does it define us? Are we who we are because of it? Despite it? Or is our past just history — what’s done is done, cannot be changed and today is a new day to choose what we will do with?

Imagine for a moment that time was a line in relation to you… an actual line. On this imaginary line, where is the past? Where do you store your memories? Is the past to the left and the future on the right? The other way round? Or is your line perpendicular, with the past behind you and the future in front? Do you see the whole timeline in front of you, or are you on or in the line? Or perhaps you visualise time entirely differently.

Natural language processing research has identified two common styles for perceiving time. Those who see their timeline laid out in front of them are said to have a natural ‘Through Time’ preference and tend to be better able to organise their time, be on time and like lists and completion.

Those who perceive themselves either on, or in, the line are described as being ‘In Time’. They are usually more present in the moment, often have many things on the go, preferring open-ended situations, less restrictions and are almost always late. Both styles have their benefits and pitfalls. Which are you?

I am an ‘In Time’ girl through and through. I’m always attempting too much in too little time and constantly juggling multiple projects. Because convention favours ‘Through Timers’ I’ve learnt to compensate for the most part, and those who love me have learnt to accept my chronic tardiness.

My ‘In Time’-ness has presented a new twist this week, though. I am writing this from the UK, where I have the unenviable task of sifting and shifting 20-odd years of accumulated stuff: things, books, paperwork, diaries and tchotchke from my decades of living here on and off since the age of ten.

You already know I’m a bit of a hoarder. No surprise then that I have ten boxes to sort through — not shoeboxes either but big, plastic tubs. And in true ‘In Time’ style, I’ve opened most of them at once. The place looks like the Tardis exploded around me. From the Madonna posters I hung on my teenage dorm room wall to the piles of divorce paperwork that signified my move home to Bermuda six years ago.

Being ‘In Time’, I don’t often think of my past. I don’t know how it is for you, but my past isn’t visible on my mind’s internal timeline, it’s literally behind me. Out of sight, out of mind I guess, because so much of my history I had quite forgotten. Reading names on greeting cards I’ve kept but now have no idea who they’re from, faces in photographs I haven’t thought about in ages, whole adventures that had slipped from mind.

It seems I store my memories in chapters, like a book, with some closing and new ones opening. As I advance into the unwritten, the pages shut on the previous chapter behind me. There’s a chapter for boarding school, United World College, and clowning in Paris. Relationships create individual sub-chapters for friends and lovers. Places I’ve lived, jobs I’ve done, activities… each have one. I’m here sitting amid open chapters —these physical objects viscerally pulling me back into their time period, re-experiencing what I was doing and who I was doing it with: the complications, the victories, the losses, sometimes long forgotten.

However overwhelming, it’s been thrilling to go back for a visit and surprise myself with just how much I’ve seen and done and felt. A reassuring reminder of what a full and fortunate life I’ve lived so far. Despite it sometimes still feeling like it all happened to somebody else. Are we the sum of our previous experiences, even if we’ve forgotten them?

My pressing question is what do I do with all this stuff, these wormholes to the chapters of my history? Try to keep only the good memories? Except no time is perfect. There were always ups and downs. Should I rent a storage unit ad infinitum and every so often take another trip down memory lane? Perhaps I should get rid of it all and focus only on the now and what is to come, with whatever vague memories that survive? I haven’t decided.What I have realised is that this too will be a chapter in my life one day. When I look back on it, what will it say? Will it be a good read?

And you, what entry will you write in your personal history book today? Let’s make it a good one.

Julia Pitt is a trained Success Coach and certified NLP practitioner on the team at Benedict Associates. For further information contact Julia on (441) 705-7488, www.juliapittcoaching.com.