Sunday, November 28, 2021

What Is Memory, Anyway?

 #378: Answer: A Way We Can Judge Genuine Interest

.......................

We've all had one of those embarrassing moments when we just can't remember someone's name, or the perfect word for the moment, or the title of a movie we just saw the week before.  And usually, there's a reason why, though the shock of not remembering often overtakes any insight to be gained.

How does one get to know that 'why'?  Practice.  When a memory shortfall occurs, wonder why.  And if thought about, usually soon enough, we discover.  

This is the danger with writing things down.  Unless one forgets to check what one's written, there's no way to benefit from a failed memory.  Which is why I rarely make shopping lists (obviously, there are times when we must perform, socially, but for me they're unusual).  If I forget an item while shopping, I'm usually able to later pat myself on the back when I think through the 'why' of that forgetfulness: "Oh, right, I wanted to use up the garden tomatoes before I bought salsa."

So, I was quite struck to read these words of advice from the author of 'A Wrinkle In Time', Madeleine L’Engle: 

“I have advice for people who want to write...you need to keep an honest, unpublishable journal that nobody reads, nobody but you. Where you just put down what you think about life, what you think about things, what you think is fair and what you think is unfair....”

Of course everybody's different, and advice about writing will work for some and not for others.  That said, I wonder whether keeping a journal might end up costing budding writers if it means they aren't allowing themselves to forget, and to learn from those lapses.  In other words, are great ideas really all that good if we can't remember without jotting them down?  "Note to self: make this into a million dollar novel: Squirrels are really just crybabies when they scold."

It's ironic that we say we want to be spiritual, religious, and mindful, but we don't allow ourselves access to one of the few windows into our psyche: the refusal of the mind to execute when it knows, subconsciously, that it shouldn't.  "Wow, I completely forgot I was supposed to answer his text; he'll be sure to drag me for it.  Wish he'd just leave me alone."  

Usually, a righteous force behind our actions is what we hope for--a knowing certainty that demonstrates inner conviction; and yet many expect that certitude to emerge without the dedicated forethought, deliberation, and review required in countless situations, large and small, failing and successful, over the course of a lifetime.

When should we write, then, if we're looking to exercise our 'forgot it' muscles?  For me, once I've decided what to write about (which often means remembering an idea from the day or week before), I focus on writing.  If I can't remember an idea I had last night, it's forgettably unworthy anyway.

No comments:

Post a Comment