Sometimes I find myself wondering about the nature of memories.
And then I find myself wondering why it is we so often remember the really bad things that happened to us, but many of the really good things that happened to us are sort of foggy or don't seem all that important, on the greater scale of things.
On the whole, we want good things to happen to us, right?
I've been corresponding with a friend about psychology and memories, and the question arose of ”what is the happiest memory from your childhood?”
I had to think about that for a very long time. I don't remember any particularly happy memories — at least not in the sense that they stand out above and beyond anything else. Most of what I remember is a long series of disappointments and sadness punctuated by a great many things that were ”sort of OK.”
If there's a single thing that stands out, it might be when we went to pick up our puppy when I was about nine years old. I think about it, though, and what I remember seems more like it is based on photographs from that particular occasion, than actually recalling any particularly strong feelings.
Our conversations consequently moved on to exploring what our single strongest memory might be.
That one was a little easier to get close to. For me, it was when I was 17 going on 18 and had just finished my last exam while I was at boarding school in the UK. Once done, I took the next available bus back to my dormitory house, got all my stuff color called Mr. Laver (the local taxi driver) from the house pay phone, had him drop me off at the local train station where I boarded a train bound for London... and I never looked back.
From Southampton to London I ended up sharing a train compartment with a young Scottish lass of about the same age as myself — maybe a year or two older — and we had a strange connection; like we were somehow incredibly connected and intimate for 90 minutes and then we went our separate ways.
The other really strong memory I have was of a return flight from Copenhagen via Amsterdam to New York, Dallas and then back to Austin where I was living at the time. The flight ended up getting postponed for a day in Amsterdam due to a problem with the plane's hydraulics and no other plane being available.
So this group of 11 total strangers decided to get together and head into Amsterdam for the night and even though none of us had ever met each other before, we had a strange experience of instantaneously being like the best of friends. Although we were thousands of miles from home, one of these people ended up being my seat mate and she was actually heading to Austin — as well — to see her boyfriend who was working in the high tech industry.
What is noteworthy about these two memories is that they were definitely positive experiences — at least from my perspective — and they stand out well over and above anything spectacularly negative that has happened to me and there's certainly been no shortage of that.
On the whole, I have a pretty good long term memory, but I still am not sure why I remember what I remember.
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Created at 2024.11.28 01:25 PST
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