mindcycle

What are memories? —A faint relict of past moments, one may answer, conserved stories, vivid recollections of what we once experienced.

But what do they mean? Memories are secret places in our minds that we can, but do not have to, share with others and we can consciously steer ourselves through them. Memories are where we can hide from reality, or what one can be terrified of. We can consult them to retrieve information that is not currently displayed to us.

Though seeming steady, memories tend to be re-arranged with every recall; they often supplement the perception of our current surroundings. Memories can go unnoticed, but they can as well be the source of pleasure or distress.

Memories are personal records of our being in the world—they define who we are. What would we be without them?

Without memories to cloud it, the mind perceives with absolute clarity. Each observation stands out in stark relief. In the beginning, when there’s not yet a smudge, the slate still blank, there is only the present moment: each vital detail, shocked color, the fall of light. Like film stills. The mind relentlessly open to the world, deeply impressed, even hurt by it; not yet gauzed by memory.

Loosing all our memories means loosing the sense of who we are. Now, if we ourselves do no longer know who we are, can we be said to still be the same person?

In “Man Walks into a Room,” Nicole Krauss introduces Samson Greene, a man who lost all his memories beyond the age of twelve.

[A]s he looks around the beautiful apartment he apparently shares with his wife and which is filled with all the souvenirs of a life well lived, Samson feels nothing more than a vague admiration.

Now in his thirties, Samson struggles to re-identify himself. Turing away from the life waiting for him to return, Samson starts hunting for the real-world counterparts of his childhood memories.

On his way, he gets to know personalities as fascinating as he himself: Lana, a former student of his, Ray, a neuroscientist calling him up to come to the desert, Donald, an old veteran suffering from lung cancer, and Pip, who found that Jesus is her one true friend. —A thought-provoking read.

Snowflakes swirling down,
melting as they touch the ground.
Christmas lights lining her window.
It’s been only a couple of hours since she opened the door,
was welcomed by the familiar smell.

A pile of unopened letters on her desk’s dusty top,
A freshly made bed in the corner,
An empty closet, a crowded bookshelf.

She let her mind wander back in time.
It seemed to her as if nothing had elapsed since her last arrival.
Still winter, still Christmas. But different.

Next door is playing a song she remembers from childhood days.
Less time she seems to have now.
And yet, it grows a strong desire to settle down.
She opened her suitcase, got out the little wrapped gifts.
Downstairs shining the Christmas tree.

It’s this season.
Or is it returning?
That initiates thinking about the past 365 days.
Have they been good? Have they been bad?
Where have I been? Where have you been?
When will we see each other again?
And everybody wonders: “What comes next?”

It’s still snowing silently,
a soft white cover emerging.