Memory is as slippery as an over-buttered kipper. Nourishing though.
We’re at the midway point of the challenge, and my theme has taken on a far greater significance than it had when I first rather flippantly chose it.
Memory has played tricks on me as I’ve written these posts, putting me in places at different times to the truth. I’ve doubted dates. I’ve doubted names. I’ve sat for ages staring ahead, frowning, trying to grasp at details.
But there’s also been a real joy in recalling the past and playing a little with how I write about it. Remembering snippets about my dad, my marriage and school has reconnected me with who I used to be, which makes me have a thought about who I am now.
Just the mention of food or places or sports can evoke feelings, and transport us to better times or worse, and I’m enjoying getting close to understanding why.
This challenge has become a personal journey for me and I’m wondering where it’s going to lead. It has illustrated just how much memory contributes to our sense of self, so it occurs to me that I may have a richer, more fecund sense of self by the end of April, like some sort of self-imposed public therapy session.