The Persistence of Memory

"Nothing fixes a thing so intensely in the memory as the wish to forget it."
-Michel de Montaigne


The other day I was going on about something with a classmate of mine as we were walking to class and during our conversation I had a very vivid recollection of a moment from my childhood. Some people might call it a "suppressed" memory, though that has sort of a negative edge. The point is, it was a memory of no practical consequence.

To satisfy the curious, I'll describe it. I was probably about 6 years old at the time. It was late afternoon and I was alone in my bedroom that I shared with my brother Daniel. The windows of that room faced west so the whole scene was bathed in orange light as the sun went down. My brother had a "high" bunk-bed. Instead of their being another bed underneath it, there was a a big cubbyhole. This was the "Holy of Holies." In this sanctum was a white faux crackle-finished treasure chest containing a large assortment of toys. On this particular afternoon, I was kneeling next to it and pulling out different things to play with. We had this one object (I can't really call it a toy) which was sort of like a yellowed, Tupperware-like, fishbowl. I used to put Micro-Machines in it. Well, on this occasion, I was... compelled... to stick my face into the bowl to smell it. Like most things children play with, it smelled like vomit.

This semester I'm taking a course in neuroscience and while I'm oftentimes overwhelmed by all of the other particulars of the course, I'm also continually impressed with how the brain works. On top of that, I have these horribly affirming moments almost every class when I see how I can align my new found understanding of physiology to help me understand myself. Yes, that sounds corny to me too, but bear with me.

Scientists know where memories are stored in the brain. They know that when you create a memory there is a chemical change that goes on and that (in super-baby terms) a little bridge is made between two areas of your brain. This bridge lasts a while, but not permanently. This is just a short-term memory. In time, the river washes it out. In order to make it long term, you have to "reiterate." You must revisit your memory to make it permanent. You need to build more bridges to it.

I've been thinking about how I reiterate experiences in my own life and how I make things more or less permanent in my memory. Remembering my first kiss is easy. I have revisited that moment because it was good and thinking about it now makes me happy. But I also have so many memories that I've permanently affixed in my mind out of a sense of unrest. This can be guilt for something that I've done to hurt someone or agitation over residual anger from when I was hurt.

The moment you do something, your memory and the memories of those involved are the only real witness to it. I know we think of time as being past, present, and future, but it seems to me that the present comes and goes so fast that it hardly exists. We expand what we mean by "present" to encompass an increment of time, say an hour or a day, but really I think its helpful to realize that you are actively moving away from what you consider to be "present" and memory is what remains.

If you draw the conclusion, like I have, that selfhood is attached directly to memory, you can see how dealing with memories is so important. If you don't address the pain from a recollection, you continue to revisit it and the memory becomes more permanent, attaching to your sense of self. As for me, when I know that I've done all that I can, the reiteration stops. Somehow forgiveness and being vocal represent a break in the cycle.

Good memories are easily remembered and help in the bad times, but I'm not sure that they can get you through. Trying to "average out" my sadness or painful memories by relying on what has been good just doesn't do it for me. You've got to go to the pain, and learn how to take it for what it is and deal with it. This explains the delusions of avoidance and denial. They are effective in the short term, but ultimately end up being a distraction from the goal. To me, relying on happiness isn't really a cure. I have to go to the cause and settle it and that allows me to be at peace.

What I mean to say is this: remembrance has a lot to do with happiness. Keeping your memories clear and learning how to manage how you revisit your thoughts so as to keep everything constructive is hard. Lately, this is seeming evermore important to me.

Against the rancid-fishbowl memories of my childhood, I have no defense. I think I'll just have to live with those.