After that bend in the road…
Memory is a very interesting concept. For a word that we so casually use, it is in reality a complex set of processes in our brain. If you read about neuroscience and psychology, you will soon learn that autobiographical memory is perhaps the most closely connected to our sense of self, of who we are and what experiences shaped us.
“ And yet, Autobiographical memory system is prone to huge distortions. It’s a goal oriented system. It recalls information that is consistent with your goals or perspective. We all tend to re-contextualise our own life stories and the memories that formed them based on the stories we tell ourselves or others tell us” — Daniel J Levitin, Successful Aging.
I was thriving, at least in my opinion.. I had an exciting assignment at work, was surrounded by a very supportive community of colleagues, enjoyed parenting a highly energetic 9 year old, glided through life with a companion of many shared interests. I had a spring in my step and I was known for that. I couldn’t wait for the future and all that it held, even the future that was in the next few seconds. I believed in the possibilities that every moment offered.
Often life has bends in the road that you can’t see ahead. My long haul Covid life of twelve months is one of those. But we are not here today for that story. This is about what came after the bend. As I grappled with the drastic change of pace in life, the first few weeks were naturally of denial. I strongly believed that I was slowing down for a couple of weeks and that is all there is to it. As I sat in the offices of my physician and physiotherapist in February, three full months post Covid, with the realisation that this was going to be a long uphill battle without the sight of an end, that is when it hit me. It was then that I spent an entire appointment with my PT just breaking down in tears. You could say some thing in me just Dissolved.
It was perhaps the idea of my sense of self. The story wasn’t fitting anymore. My memories of who I am were at war with my present self. And so like the movie “Inside out” there was a massive breakdown of the memory control centre. My days were eventless, so there was nothing notable to add to my memory traces. Dissolution — of my routines, association to events, basically in a way my identity. Who was I now?
There is no knowing for a fact. The only dependable things are humility and looking.”
― Richard Powers, The Overstory
And I was looking. Like an alchemist’s lab, my mind started working through the threads, with questions mainly. Floating in those, I basically got out of my own way. When you spend enough time in silence, whatever the “enough” is for each of us, I believe we learn to listen to it. As I learnt to listen to the language of silence there emerged voices in me that were clearer than ever. My silences started to sound more like symphony, the sights around me like masterstrokes of art. I was doing something subconsciously — Crystallising.
During summer a friend gifted a copy of a lovely book by Deepak Ramola. One specific question in the book stood out for me.
“ If you could design a menu for your life, what all would it include?” — Deepak Ramola, 50 Toughest questions of life
My mind had already been playing with a different version of this. I was alone, idling to a large extent, unfulfilled, with goals that had dissolved.This question made me visualise my days from what I now saw as my previous life, as a plate. And it was a full plate. My present , an empty one. I needed to craft myself a nutritious plate. I found my nutrients slowly, with a lot of help from some beautiful humans. I soaked and absorbed the energy they were offering me. I was making newer associations in my memory. And Re-forming my sense of self.
“Trees fall with spectacular crash. Planting is silent and growth invisible.”
― Richard Powers, The Overstory
I am thriving again in a re-contextualised sense of self.
