The Forgetting Game
I wake up this morning and feel clean, new day, dog licking my face — hello New York.
And then I remember that I should remember how I felt before I went to bed. Survival mechanism clicking in: what regrets from the night before am I running from, what is unresolved, where am on the balance sheet of my weekly goals, how did I screw up my latest gambit…
And the peace starts to dissipate.
So I tell myself, “Forget!”
You don’t remember. You have amnesia. Whatever happened yesterday is lodged deep in your brain, and if you need it to survive you’ll recall it, but otherwise I think jeez you just can’t remember it.
It’s a game: The Forgetting Game. Every time you wake up and that dull dread starts to creep in, just forget what happened. Forget what you failed to accomplish the day before.
Look around and be grateful that you are sleeping under a roof and waking up next to a dog that loves you or at the very least loves the idea of you feeding her and letting her out to pee.
Perhaps even forget what you succeeded at the day before. Because then arises the pressure to build on it. A never-ending cascade of upward mobility and smart ‘moves,’ capitalizing on the last action, all to reach the top of some skyscraper only to see an even bigger sky scraper you have to scale next.
It’s a clear, cold, sunny day on the roof. If you can, bring up a cup of coffee and your favorite cereal and pretend you don’t know who you are or how you got up so high with such a magnificent view of the skyline. Just don’t forget how to get back down.
It’s Saturday, and it’s the first day of the week.
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