It got me thinking about memory and what a fickle friend it can prove to be. Three observations jump out from my own "fickle friend" - let us call her Athena, after the Greek goddess of wisdom, there are other Greek gods with a claim on wisdom, but I forget who they are. Anyhow, my Athena drew my attention to these few nuggets lodged within my cerebral cortex regarding memory.
First, this droll observation from a dedicated spouse-caregiver who maintains a strength and sense of humor I can only envy: "The good thing about Alzheimer's is that you forget you have it."
Second, the character, Amos Decker, the protagonist in David Baldacci's "Memory Man," mystery series who, as a result of a freak football injury, cannot forget anything he has seen or heard. The very thought of which terrifies me.
And third, a memory of a line from Inherit the Wind, my high school junior class play in 1966. I played Henry Drummond [That's me up there on the left] defending the right of a young school teacher, Bertram Cates to teach "creationism" in class. But it is a line uttered by my antagonist, Matthew Harrison Brady - pictured up there on the right, that is germane to this post. I [Drummond] have been hammering Brady about the narrowness and inflexibility of his thought process until he wails: "I do not think about the things I do not think about."
Athena seemed to be pointing out to me that, in many ways, my memory serves me along the lines of a slight editing of Brady's admission: I do not remember the things I choose not to remember.
To understand how this rather strange memory phenomenon works, it strikes me that I should look back at my mantra: Foster Harmony, Enable Beauty, Distill Complexity, Oppose harm. Recalling particularly that "Foster Harmony" is dominant; it is only natural to examine harmony's antagonist - discord.
"Hate" is a word I try to eliminate from my vocabulary as much as possible. It is no easy task. We pick it up so early in life: "I hate Brussels sprouts," "I hate my purple pajamas," later "I hate those Duke Blue Devils" and even later, "I hate those Democrats, Republicans, Arabs, Jews, Chinese, etc., etc., etc." It is a word and a mind set with no redeeming characteristics and I do try to eliminate it. Often with substitutions: "I would prefer asparagus." or "Isn't that Belichick a bit much at Carolina?" or "Don't you think he should have left the reflecting pool alone?" Thing like that.
But I find it most difficult to separate "hate" and "discord." The feeling that springs to my gut when I encounter events, positions, behaviors, individuals who foster discord in our lives is "hate." So I have to scramble to dissemble to one of my substitutions. I think my selective memory helps, functioning as sort of an automatic defense system against "the dark side."
It is not that I do not have memories of the "bad days, events, etc." They are there - but it takes a conscious effort to pull them up. Often a parallel event has to intrude. Like when I see a news story about a bunch of kids being killed in a car accident, I will flash back to the year in high school when our homecoming queen and members of her court perished thus. When friends are having domestic difficulties, I can recall that part of my history.
Some memory experts advocate creating a "memory palace" in your mind so you can groups of certain kinds of memories in specific rooms, allowing you more complete and easier access to clusters of memories. I have never tried that exercise, but if I had done so the memories of discord, from "the dark side" would live locked in a small room down in the basement, and I would do my best to loose the key. It is not as though they never sneak out. Like cockroaches they do invade on occasion. Stomp on them.
But, predominately, my memory seems to paint the rest of my palace in softer, harmonic, beautiful hues. I don't really know why I appear to be drawn to the beautiful, the calm, the peaceful. Why they can claim the front rooms of my nonexistent memory palace. But I am thankful that they do. Otherwise I would side with my editing of Brady and assert that "I do not remember the things I choose not to remember!"
