1) It should be quick. I'm out with friends. :]
2) It'a memory of an event...
3) Where I remember an event that I shouldn't be able to.
Thus the title, which is a Discordian phase from the Goddess herself.
When I was little, I don't remember how old exactly (under 10? maybe?), I had a memory come to me from when I was much younger. I remembered my mom mowing the grass, out near this little area with a curving arc of yellowbell bushes. Our secondary road into the yard ran right by it, near where my mom's old, decrepit trailer lay rotting, rusting and dying. I remember grass (cut and uncut alike), bugs, and all sorts of details, like smell.
I remember a guy walking up from down the road, from off to the right, and beginning to talk to my mom about selling part of the property back past the little stream that divided it. Then it lost my attention because I was very young, and I went off to play or eat grass or something.
This came back to me then because my mom started talking about it, to my grandmother, I think. We were sitting in the living room of that old, sturdy house. My mom was sitting at the kitchen table; my grandmother in the recliner that she'd eventually "live" in after she got cancer. So I piped up with an "I remember that too!"
And they were like, okay, whatever. I insisted, and they began to get irritated, telling me there was no way I could remember that event.
"Why?" I asked them.
"Because you weren't born then."
I pressed the issue; I was so sure that they were wrong (lol) because I remembered it. So clearly. They got pissed and told me to shut up or whatever; you know, like you do with kids.
It turns out we were both right. The property was sold before I was even born. I want to say it might have been while she was pregnant with me; I really don't remember. It was then or even earlier. Nonetheless, I did remember it. In fact, I remember that part of the event much better than the "real" event where I had an altercation with my parents. I remembered what they were describing before they described all of it; a fact obviously lost on them at the time.
So the options here are equally interesting, in my opinion.
That I remembered an event that happened before my birth.
That I made it up/dreamed it/was wrong at the time, but associated so thoroughly with the "memory" that I claimed it as my own, and now cannot tell it from my own.
If you dream a memory, which is it?
If you can't tell if something you remember is real, is it real?
If only one person saw something, but everyone else saw something different, what would that mean?
If you dream a memory I think it's a dream of a memory. In the case of this memory, the possibility that enters my brain is that the memory is the observation of your soul or possibly a brain wave interception of your mother's experiences while you were a fetus.
ReplyDeleteIf you can't tell if something you remember is real then I think it could be both real or not.
If one sees something different from others it's because they have an alternate perspective.
Those are my thoughts. Anna, this was a fantastic post. Thank you.
That was an excellent post. I am not sure if it was a dream or memory but that is something to think about. So, easy it is for memories to seem like dreams, so maybe they are somehow linked
ReplyDeleteTo round out my thoughts:
ReplyDeleteI believe that if two people see something different in the same event, they're both right. Reality has simply diverged; in one person's reality, it is one thing. In the other person's, it is another.
Is there such a thing as a false memory? If we create a memory... it is still a memory, no? Regardless of the source. Of course, that rides a fine line with self-delusion, which is dangerous to the self.
It's up to each of us to decide whose answer is worth more- ours, or the consensus. If everyone but yourself sees something a different way, but yet you are sure of the answer... If we know 2+2=4, but everyone around us starts saying 2+2=8, who do we trust?
Quantum physics and chaos both would tell us that something can be both real and unreal at the same time. Or both. Or neither.
Or maybe I'm rambling. :]
I'll just trail off now........
It's also entirely possible that your mother was being freaking retarded and the property was not sold before you were born.
ReplyDeleteBecause y'know... your mom is freaking retarded sometimes.
But if not... just wow.
Sometimes... universes don't match up.
Like that time me and ZachJ started on about that scene at the end of the Life of Brian where they're singing the song "Always look on the bright side of life" and we were both recounting with vivid clarity how it showed "Jesus" at a point on the cross between the two thieves bobbing his head along in time with the song like all the other people it showed doing so... And then we went to play the tape to show other people the scene we recalled... and it didn't happen at all. There was never a moment where "Jesus" appeared on screen with the other crucified characters in that ending. It never happened at all. Yet moments before, he and I had described EXACTLY the same scene which we'd both remembered the exact same way... tho it didn't actually exist.
What happened there?
How did the exact same thing exist in each of our memories when it had never happened....
I always think memory is so much more than some lineal line of time. I mean, we can only really process it 'logical' if we following it as if it were, but I think it causes so many issues in just trying to do that.
ReplyDeleteI have learned that memories can be made, I experimented that on my sister once... or twice... or an undisclosed number I will never admit to...
However, our memories don't need to be validated to make them important. They simply are, and this is who were are... as I strongly feel we are the sum of our memories (and a bit more, like our desires for the future).
I loved this post, because it's something I've tried to express to others before, so it's awesome to see someone else thinking something like this without it being in response to something I was saying...
So it's like a post to make me know I'm not crazy--- err crazier.