Memories…Streisand sang about them, stories are written in honor of them. We all have them. It is a huge part of being human. It is our memory of who we are, the personas we’ve adopted for ourselves, that orders our daily actions. Were it not for the memory, the fact that we are new every day would be much more obvious in a tangible way. My memory tells me every morning that I’m a writer, and so when I hit the type pad to write a post, this is no surprise to me.
But we need to be careful with our memories, because they are also subject to our emotions and our individual truths. One person may say that the 1950’s was the best time in history, while others remember, “white fountain only”, “colored fountain”in the back. Same time, same decade, different reality.
Often when relationships end, there are two different stories, two sets of memories. And sometimes we over exaggerate and even dramatize how good or bad something was, because our minds love to tell stories. If we don’t continually bring ourselves into awareness, and ask ourselves the right questions, we may not be able to distinguish our true memories from the stories we tell ourselves.
Did you really always make up by kissing under the maple tree, or is that the way you had always wished it would play out after the numerous disagreements?
Were you really always a total outcast in society, or did that one group of cool kids shun you at lunchtime
Maybe both memories are true. Maybe not. Maybe only a shadow of what you remember is true. Whatever the case, it is good that we ask ourselves to be honest with ourselves. This is the only way we can live life authentically, and not moving from one story to another.
Do memories rule your present life? And are the memories that play out for you on a regular basis, really true?