On gone memories
Do you ever feel that listening to self-help podcasts or reading these types of books can have a reverse effect on your mental health? It’s weird, but that’s what happens to me. I know that Brené Brown and Adam Grant have a lot to teach me, but usually my first reaction is some kind of despair in which everything they say is something unachievable, an evidence that I’ve been failing for a while or more of the things I’ve known for quite some time but haven’t been able to embody in a disciplined way.
Again, it’s weird.
I know they want to help me, but the thought of realizing I’m doing things wrong is crippling. It’s so crazy that as a recovering perfectionist, I should be so down to all of these stuff, yet, they scare me. Pretty much like any parenting books.
Anyway, for some unknown reason, I decided to listen to an episode of Dare to Lead (yes, we’re back to Spotify after not adapting to tidal or apple music, boo me). The guest was Dr. Amishi Jha. I got hooked when she shared about her Indian roots and growing up in Chicago.
I know, I’m so predictable.
Dr. Jha is a neuroscientist researching on attention, focus and mindfulness. She shared her struggle as a working mom, catching herself reading a book to her son and having no clue on how to answer a simple question about a passage. She realized she was not there, her mind was somewhere else… at work, to-do lists, strategies, studies, the house, meals for the coming days.
Okay, very relatable, I thought. I’m really listening to this episode now.
“We only remember what we pay attention to”, Dr. Jah said. Her research shows that memories are only able to stick long term if we were paying full attention to it — that full mind, body and spirit presence kind of thing.
I have always struggled with memories, specially childhood memories before my parents divorce. I have little recollection of how my life was before the age of 12. My first therapist said that it was a defense mechanism or a way my brain found to protect myself from hard feelings, like if you don’t remember how it was having a family altogether you won’t suffer from losing it. Brains. There they are doing their trickery.
Lately, I noticed that it’s been hard to access memories at all — short, medium and long term. How was life back in Brazil 10 years ago? I had to concentrate to remember how our houses were, the first and the second we lived in for 7 years. How was my routine? Where was my desk at work… How did I spend time with Mel, having a newborn, how about my college years? Were those the best years? I can’t really grasp anything.
It’s strange. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.
My brain has always focused on what’s next. Was that also a trick to avoid the pains and challenges in those present moments?
I felt sad for the rest of the evening. I went to bed early thinking about it.
As usual on nights that Matt is playing late gigs, I woke up around 2 a.m. and checked his location — Good. I can go back to sleep, he should be home soon, I thought, but my brain was like, oh no, no, no, lady. I actually woke you up because I found some stuff in the back.
I’m like, no, brain, please… tomorrow is a busy day, I will need you in full force. I was even planning on skipping caffeine. Please let’s go back into that delicious deep sleep.
I took the silence as a no and braced myself as if I was entering Space Mountain — a dark space with dozen of tiny lights and lots of unexpected turns. Okay, let’s go. Let’s try to remember then, I surrendered to my brain.
It started slow, I saw a few of the houses I lived in as a kid. I entered doors. I saw the couches, the carpet, the kitchen cabinets, and entire floor plans. I saw myself playing that worms war game. I saw my mom planting flowers. I was 11. I entered all these houses I lived in from age 8 to 31. I entered my old college campus. I was 18. I was 28, holding a baby and singing a bedtime song.
I’m not sure what time I fell asleep again. Maybe 4:30 a.m.? It was 6:30 when the alarm went off. After one snooze, I headed to the kitchen to prep Mel’s lunchbox. Once she was off to school, I realized I was still riding that wave, like in the first minutes of waking up when the dream is still pretty vivid.
I packed my things and headed out the door. I’m sitting at a coffee shop feeling thankful for my brain. She remembers. She’s been storing these things in the back, waiting for me to be ready to access them. She saw I was ready and took me on a wild trip. A mix of memories and dream. An out of body kind of experience. There’s something about waking up in the middle of the night that goes beyond anxiety. I think that if we surrender we get to access some wild stuff.
Maybe you too feel like you lived a thousand lives, yet your memories are scarce, either because you were not paying attention or because it’s too painful. Either way, I found out last night that the brain is a sneaky creature. I guess when the spirit is ready, the brain is game, and the result is better than a Disney ride.
Stay wild, friends.
Thali
