October 29, 2001
Greetings from the tip of my tongue,
If my memory serves me correctly, I used to be better at remembering things. Phone numbers, appointments, names, dates, engine size of a ’57 Chevy Bel Aire. Lately, I count myself lucky if I can still remember what I was going to say by the time I start a sentence.
This is not terribly serious, we all go through some spate of time where due to stress, or too many things to do, and we find ourselves in the bedroom wondering why we are there, and why we have a pencil and paper in our hand? A brain hiccup. My personality is such that I will not give up. I will stay until I remember what I came in for, or until I forget that’s what I’m doing and go to another room to try again.
On TLC recently, there was a program about a man who had no short term memory. Every hour or so he would completely forget anything that had happened since 1975. He had no idea how old he was, what he had been doing, or anything about anyone he met since that time, when he had been in an accident. (Before I forget, rent the movie “Memento”).
Try to put yourself in that situation. You have no sense of passage of time. You are essentially ageless. You are an island; your connection with the other people in your life is severed. You exist in the moment, there is no past. It is harder for you to imagine yourself in the future, because you have no context for the image. What town will I be in? Where will my friends be? What will my family be doing? You have no idea what the future could hold. It puts the question “Why am I here?” in a whole different light.
Yesterday I read an article about the man in Vancouver who has complete amnesia. No memory of his past at all. Not only does he not exist in his memory, (or anyone else) he has no IMPORTANT PAPERS that tell the Canadian government who he is, so he can’t leave the country. It’s the ultimate brain hiccup: I know I came to Canada for something, what was it? Darn.
If you have no memory it changes who you are, other than what is provided by genetics. Your life so far, as played back for you in your memory, is what shapes many of the decisions you make about your life from here on. Your memory of your life is as much about your potential as it is about your experience.
Imagine not having any memory. You haven't learned from any of your mistakes. You don't know about loving and losing. You don't know which back pocket your wallet normally goes in. No memories to comfort you. No history with friends, no experience to rely on.
Frightening, isn’t it?
On the other hand, you get a clean slate. A do-over. A chance to start any relationship you want without baggage. A life where you don’t cringe when you think about your prom night, or shudder at the thought of public speaking. You aren’t a snob, or self conscious about your nose.
No regrets. No grudges. You can't be jaded or cynical, because you haven't been disappointed by anyone yet. No racism. No bad habits. No nightmares brought on by Auschwitz, or the World Trade Center. You might give lima beans a chance. You might not be afraid of spiders any more.
Imagine.
If you have no memory, all that is gone is your earthly experience. Your purpose, your value to others here, your value to God, does not change. Your interpretation of that might change, your reaction to what happens around you might change. But the intrinsic you is still you. It might be you in the purest form.
Every morning when you wake up, right before your mind is fully engaged, you have a moment of just existing. No memory or plan. Try to view that as your clean slate. What would you choose to forget? What do you want to write on your slate? What kind of memory will you create today?
Hope this finds you remembering why you came in.
David
By the way, the ’57 Bel Aire had a 283 cu. in. engine.
Copyright © 2001 David Smith