Tag: memory
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The Mutable Rank-scented Many
Too much time by myself can be troublesome: I begin to wonder about things that I should have resolved years ago had I bothered to think more about them. Or, perhaps I did, and decided to shelve them while I got on with my life. Retired hands, though, are often bored; they open things the…
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I am the table
What is it about an organism that makes it a table setting for posterity, a book with no words, a classroom with no teacher? History is one thing; it has events, and usually documentary accounts and descriptions of its occurrence: a monument here, a written mention there. Evidence… But what about culture? How could the…
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Your date is better in your pie and porridge than in your cheek
When I was young, everybody except my friends were old. There were gradations of course, but with anybody over 18, I could only guess the number of years they wore. And even then, it was kind of a binary choice: they were either adults, or simply old like, say, my grandparents. Old people were in…
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Yea from the table of my memory, I’ll wipe away all trivial fond records
Sometimes we struggle to understand how others think, but it can be even harder when, despite their history with us, they lose themselves and leave us behind to search for them. And yet, often their world abuts ours in ways we may not have considered. This was a realization that crystallized after reading an essay…
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I’ll note you in my book of memory
As I rattle slowly through the years, I find that I am spending increasing time with my memories. I’m told that even the best ones change the more they are recalled -they are not videotapes, or even photographs stored in albums inside my head- but still, they will suffice. I do not need much detail…
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Is memory the warder of the brain?
I have to be honest, I do not understand the younger generation -well, anymore than it understands me, I suppose. But I recognize that, unlike them, I am not working from a clean slate, and although I have usually tried to think for myself, I am still affected by things past -in fact, I imagine…
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The ceremony of innocence is drowned
Every so often, things are not as they seem. Perhaps that should come as no surprise to an ever-curious septuagenarian, but sometimes I realize I have been misled, lulled into a sense of complacency by the reigning Weltanschauung; or, to be clear, the previous one -the one in which I received my formal education. But…
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Mind Trips
Does your mind ever behave as if you weren’t getting enough fibre in your diet? Does it ever seem to plug up with loge -or whatever the noun form of logy is? Mine does that whenever it doesn’t get sufficient exercise, I find -not enough thinking perhaps. On the other hand, even when I think…
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Learned without Opinion…
Sometimes we are almost too confident, aren’t we? Encouraged by something we’ve just read, and recognizing it as being already on file in our internal library, we congratulate ourselves on the depth and breadth of our scope. Perhaps it’s the title of an abstruse article, and even the picture at the top of the page…
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Remembering Forgetting
We have to be careful, don’t we? Sometimes, we have to force ourselves to step back for a moment. When we want something –need something- to reassure us that we will be okay despite signs to the contrary, it’s all too easy to believe. All too easy to slip back into the warm, reassuring arms…
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