Forgetting

I bet that none of my readers find that they remember things these days better than they used to.

Growing forgetful is perhaps a curse, perhaps a blessing.

My own increasing forgetfulness has made me very aware recently of how people have been talking about memory.

For example, as the fall and the prospect of another CN Tower climb loom, we've been chatting at the office about where people get their endurance. One colleague recounted how a friend of hers every once in a while jumps up from her couch and runs a half marathon. She can do this, my colleague explained, because of the "muscle memory" her friend built as a runner in high school.

I think I understand what that means. The only thing that makes it possible for me to manage the ever-changing array of teachers at my yoga studio is the muscle memory I've built over the years (ten of them now, I think) of bending and breathing.

But, the yoga teachers also talk about "beginner's mind" - stepping into every yoga class - or perhaps everything you ever do - as if it were the very first time. This energizing notion proposes that there's always something new to learn and always old patterns of thought and action to let go.

Starting new every time is a lot of work, though. Unthinking routines I've built around my day - such as preparing lunches in the morning - free up space in my brain to wrestle with rare questions such as, "should we get new blinds for our bedroom?" and "what are we going to do about climate change?"

Getting around the hard-wired routines that are my failsafes against forgetting is what really takes tremendous effort, or, at least, clever use of both the language and post-it technology. 

Bruce helps me remember that I don't need to make a lunch for him.

The note says NLN*.

And these are our new blinds.

Combined sheer/insulated opaque blinds that you can adjust to all of one or the other, or partial, as illustrated;
when the opaque blinds are fully deployed, our bedroom has never been so dark.

And Barak Obama has made a recent promise (gee-I-hope-they-keep-this-one) about climate change.

Thanks for reading!

Have a great week!

Karen

*No Lunch Necessary