I love the brain in all its magnificence and am amazed by all it does and how it controls out of our awareness.
One of the things which I find incredibly fascinating our mind’s ability to remember.
It remembers our story. Our origin. It remembers our beliefs. It remembers more than we could ever realize.
Without our memories we are nothing. Our body is simply a shell.
Take away our memories and we don’t know who we love now. We don’t remember what we love. We have no idea who we are.
Our memories are the sticky goo that holds our reality.
The first time I truly realized the power and importance of this concept I set out on a couple of missions.
ONE: Improve my memory.
Learn my story to the point that I could recite it even if I became ill with Alzheimer’s.
TWO: Cram my daughters with as many memories as possible.
I made it point to give them as many experiences as possible filled with memories of us together.
Many times this simply involved going to the park to run and climb trees. Memories.
I have lived long enough to hear the story of many adults in which they recount memories of their parents and their childhood.
9 times out of 10 the stories will revolve around experience: both good and bad.
It is very rare when I talk to an adult and they tell me about how mad they were at their parents for them not buying them something.
Over and over again it’s about the memories of their experiences.
When you hang out with your friends you exchange stories with your buddies about your past and your memories.
We are storytellers by nature and we share our past for the most part.
They are the sticky stuff that makes us who we are and creates these dynamic personalities which identifies us.
Let’s make some today that matter and we can talk about in 20 years.