Disembodied Moments
It hurts my brain to try and attempt to conceptualize all of the experiences that I’ve had in my lifetime, let alone fathom the larger scope of humanity; specifically each moment that will never be remembered (unless documented.) This train of thought led me to record each of my days in my journal- also the fact that my memory is horrible n I would forget otherwise (hi Flora.)
To read back on these journal entries of mine, sometimes, is to pick up someone else’s biography from a random shelf in a random library and start reading a random page in the middle. Some pages feel like an out-of-body experience in a way that I cannot make a connection to my current self, to that version of me that was living in that time. Maybe it’s because my life has been so, well, wonky, and to draw a line between each year is to walk in a straight line after 7 tequila shots….
Even as I write this blog post, I feel like I need to anchor myself to the sensation of these keys pressing beneath my fingers, forcing myself to remember this moment. It sounds strange, but do not get all concerned, I just wanted to explore this topic for my own personal understanding and maybe I can come to some sort of concept that will aid in me getting older and keeping my life close to my heart and not something my brain tries to push away as a false prophecy.
My perception of my travels are the main example of this feeling…
In my mind, I am still a shy 13-year-old girl who is petrified of change and even more petrified of working towards my goals. I know that this is not who I am today; in fact, it is probably the complete opposite. Yet, I still see each thought in my brain passing through the filter of that young girl’s perception of life and it makes it difficult to view it as present me.
I guess now that I am really thinking about it, I do often make a lot of my decisions with either no contemplation at all, or I will grab the electric fence of indecisiveness with such a grasp that other people have to peel my fingers off for me. But that is a topic for another day.
I, Hope sitting in this cafe in Philadelphia in America, see photos in the past of me- like on top of the Eiffel Tower, or walking through the streets of Berlin in the pride parade, or at the peak of a 6-hour hike in Colorado, orrrrrrrr posing my drunkass with my pub crawl tour guide in Belgium- and I feel jealous. I feel jealous in a similar way that you’re probably feeling, reading this and getting slowly and slowly more pissed off at me as I rub these experiences in your face. (If you know me, you know how my gratefulness for these experiences bubbles into every aspect of my life and there is no animosity trying to be achieved here.) My brain knows it was me, but that 13-year-old girl’s brain which is still a large part of me, cannot comprehend.
I am almost 24.
Our brains and their relation to memories fascinate me. The part that both comforts and brings me a bit of worry about it, is how our minds can so easily re-script memories, bending them into something that feels vivid yet may never have existed in that form. There’s a strange reassurance in knowing we can mold our own past, but it’s equally unnerving to realize we can paint over reality with our own convincing brushstrokes, creating a version of events that never truly lived.
I used to lie a lot as a child. To my friends about how many pairs of shoes I had because I was terrified of others having the opinion of me that I was not like everyone else. To my mom when I would be going somewhere that was not Katie Witt’s house and doing something that was definitely not playing Minecraft in her basement (though this was a frequent occurrence so it was a pretty good cover.) To myself when I would say I would do that one thing tomorrow…
I guess this is the main reason why I do not trust my memory. I am constantly wondering if what I said is actually true, or just adding another layer of paint to the canvas of the memory I am trying to recreate. There have been times when reading through my past journal entries and what is written on the page does not correspond with what happened in my brain. Though this could be a case of obtaining new information about a situation, it reinforces the mistrust in memory in a way that is a bit unsettling.
But, if that’s not enough to prevent you from having an identity crisis… well actually please don’t. In the vastness of our conscious experiences, I believe it’s more important to work on where you currently are as opposed to worrying about your past, or the memory of the past. The past will distract you from feeling the wind against your face as you walk through the streets of your new home with your best friend who you haven’t seen in over a year… and who has a much larger impact on you than your classmates who think you own thirty pairs of shoes when you really own 3… here are some things that I’ve found help me with this concept.
I know that paragraph was a run-on sentence that got ran over in the middle, but hopefully, it made sense.
Photos
I take at least 5 photos a day; I know it is not good for my phone storage, but it is good for my brain. This gives me an overarching concept of the entails of my day, and that it did in fact happen to me.
Instagram
SOCIAL MEDIA?! Girl, yes but no. If you have seen me switch to my egg Instagram account you probably gawked at the number of accounts I have. Now most are ones from my past- similar to the egg account- of things such as my cat’s adventures living with me in college, or a secret account I had in high school where I would just post photos of my toe around the town (I was strange I know), or my work account which is a lot more reasonable lol. Anyway, I do have one account where I post all of the photos I take and write whatever pertains to my brain in the caption. This is not for the public eye and more for myself. But it is very much a digital scrapbook that helps me keep track.
Being present
If I focus on details of the situation I am in more, not only does it prevent me from worrying about the past or the future, but it also engrains information in my brain about my current and more recent memories and feelings. This has also proven to be immensely beneficial in working on my goals and wants for my life in general.
Creating
Me doing this blog is a bookmark for my biography right now. It holds a place in my life so that, in the future, I can understand this time period of my life a bit more.
This can be done in hundreds of other ways of course, whatever pertains to your life and expression will serve as a bookmark as well.
This intricate thread of memories that weaves together our identities yet can be so easily reshaped and repainted. But maybe not every memory needs to be flawless or every detail entirely accurate for it to belong to us. Here I am, on the brink of 24, navigating the challenge of staying focused in each present moment while acknowledging that memory will always have its elusive, slippery nature. By doing this, hopefully, and ultimately, the narrative I’ve crafted remains true to who I believe myself to be—imperfect and wonderfully unique in its own right.
I hope you have a good day,
-Hope Joy
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